Across Space and Time
by Kanotari
Summary: Bulma builds a time machine to visit Future Trunks in his own timeline. Something goes horribly wrong and she ends up in another timeline altogether where the Earth has been destroyed, Frieza still lives, and Vegeta is... well... Vegeta.
1. Not as Planned

**Hello again everyone,**

**When I started this story a few months ago, it was a quick idea that I jotted down with little thought. 40k words later, I have noticed that some characters' personalities have transformed since their creation. On top of it, a few reviewers pointed out some plot holes that I missed, among other things. As proud as I am of what I produced, I feel it could always be better, and so starting with this chapter today (11/15/12) I am updating the original chapters to be more consistent. Let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. Now is the time!**

**-Kano**

Chapter 1: Not as Planned

"It's the my latest version of the Saiyan armor," Bulma explained. "I used Vegeta's armor as a model and constructed my own version."

"It's stretchier," Gohan noticed, sliding it over his head.

"That's because it's made of a nylon and lyrica blend," she replied.

Vegeta donned his armor as well, nodding in approval. He gave it a light punch. It gave ever so slightly, slowing the force of his blow. "This will work," he said.

"Gohan, I want you to fire a ki blast at Vegeta," she instructed. "Vegeta, don't dodge. Let the armor take the hit." What she didn't mention was that the armor was little good against a blast from someone as strong as Vegeta.

"As if the runt could hurt me to begin with," the saiyan scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Just take the shot, Gohan," Bulma sighed. With her latest project complete, she was in too good of a mood for even Vegeta to kill it. Gohan did as he was instructed. They all watched with bated breath as the attack hit the armor and dispersed. Thought Bulma was one-hundred percent confident in her creation, it was still a relief to see it perform.

"Again, Gohan," she requested. She wanted to be sure that it could hold up to multiple ki attacks. The boy did as he was asked. She motioned for him to continue. Four, five, six blasts Gohan fired. Four and five hit Vegeta squarely in the chest, deflected easily by the vest. Six, however, was a little off target. It was headed straight for Vegeta's face. He threw up his wrists to block the blast.

"Stop, stop!" Bulma called. "Vegeta," she asked, turning to him. "What was that?"

"The last one was poorly aimed," he defended.

"Weren't you the one who thought he couldn't hurt you? Why defend then?"

"You're being irrational, woman," he hollered. "I'm not going to take a hit for no good reason."

Bulma was frustrated that her test had been interrupted. It was the real reason behind her snappy attitude. While she might have confessed that fact to Gohan, she certainly wouldn't to Vegeta. That was simply asking to be mocked.

"Glad to know I'm not a good enough reason," she said, storming off. She knew she was being ridiculous, but frankly she didn't care. The truth was, Bulma had more than one reason for making new armor. She thought her friends could use it against the androids, but there was another person who could use it as well.

Trunks, the boy from the future, warned them about the impending android attack. It was why she turned her research to combat technology. In fact, it was the express reason that she made this armor. She owed him the benefits of his actions.

The blue-haired woman headed down to her lab in search of another, much larger invention. It was the refurbished wreckage of a saiyan pod. At one time, this ship had flown through space. With her modifications, it would fly through time. She could use this to bring her future friend some supplies and technology, anything that might help save his world from the androids. It was a thank you gift, of sorts.

Bulma got inside the pod, her arms filled with armor other various supplies she thought her future counterpart might appreciate. She examined the panel of controls and monitors. Her modifications looked clunky next to the streamlined saiyan technology. The genius shrugged; clunky or not, they should still work.

She flicked a few switches and the modified propulsion system roared to life. Another dial, and the wormhole generator did its work. A small, pod-sized wormhole appeared in her lab. The better part of a table and its contents disappeared inside it, sent to her destination. She made a mental note to clear the area the next time she used the pod. There was but a moment to think that, for the wormhole stretched to engulf the pod and her with it.

It was pressure like she had never experienced before. She remembered when her father's cat, Scratch, had managed to get himself stuck in a tissue box. She had never sympathized with the silly animal before, but suddenly had newfound empathy. The pod began to shake violently, up and down, and side to side.

Now, Bulma had never tested her pod. The simple reason was that she could send the pod anywhere with little effort, but with no operator, it was impossible to retrieve. She would never know the results of her test, and might lose everything. Instead, she assumed that like most of her inventions, it would work. Bulma was beginning to regret that decision; this shaking was rather unsettling.

It was a great relief when everything stopped and the pressure lifted. Bulma tested the pod door. It stubbornly refused to move. She threw her shoulder into it, and of course it gave way, causing her to fall into an unceremonious heap. The scientist took a moment to look around. The floor was polished, sterile white, and so were the walls and ceiling. She could see a window on the far side of the room, but it only revealed darkness. It must be night.

Bulma brought her attention back to the pod when it began to rumble. In her experience, rumbling was never a good sign. She also noticed a small flame coming from the propulsion mechanism. Unintentional open fire was also a bad sign. It would probably be unwise to remain near the pod.

Bulma ran as fast as her skinny legs could take her. As it was, she just barely escaped the blast radius as her time machine exploded with a horrible roar. She supposed she should be frightened. She, Bulma Briefs, had built a working time machine and Trunk's mom had built one too. With their combined intellect, it shouldn't be a problem to build another to take her home, right?

She straightened up and looked around, closer this time. This... this wasn't West City, she realized, and those weren't humans staring at her. The ground was ever-so-slightly curved. That darkness outside the window… that was space! This was a ship, and a big one from the looks of it.

The aliens began to overcome their fear, creeping toward her cautiously. Bulma froze in her tracks as one particular alien stood out to her. His green braid and smug face were a dead giveaway: Zarbon. Wasn't he dead? Oh god! Was she dead?! One swift blow to the back of her head and she was falling to the ground. It hurt. Well there was one good thing at least; she was alive.

Bulma awoke shrieking as a deluge of ice water chilled cascaded over her body. She rubbed her head, and found a good-sized lump. No wonder she had blacked out. A quick glance around the room revealed her dire situation. She was in a cage and, judging from the dull mechanical hum filling the room, presumably near the engines. There were a few other cages in the room, none holding prisoners, at least not any live ones. Most frightening of all, Zarbon loomed over her holding a dripping bucket, safely on the other side of the bars.

"Nice of you to finally wake up," he sneered. "Now tell me. How did you get on Lord Frieza's ship?"

Bulma felt the blood drain from her face. She was _where?!_ Lord Frieza was alive?! She could swear he was dead in Trunks' timeline… perhaps she was wrong. It was rare, but it happened. One thing was for sure, this was not good. She took a deep breath and answered her captor's question.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. My ship... something went wrong. I'm supposed to be on Earth."

Zarbon let out a cold laugh. "Don't lie. My lord blew up that insolent planet nearly four years ago."

Bulma sprinted to a corner, a whole four steps away, and retched. Earth was gone. Yamcha. Goku. Her parents. Chi-chi. All their friends. Dead. Gone.

"I don't have all day," Zarbon spat impatiently. "How did you get on the ship?"

"I told you! I was trying to get to Earth," the blue-haired scientist insisted. Her vision began to swim as tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

The alien flicked his green braid over his shoulder. "Do you think I care where you were headed? I wish to know how your ship managed to crash onto this one without so much as scratching the hull. It's as though it simply appeared from thin air."

"I really don't know," she sniffed.

Zarbon lost his temper and threw his bucket at the wall, gouging the smooth surface. "I despise being lied to," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Bulma's tears of fear and misery began to stream down her face. "I really don't know," she repeated. It was true. She was eighty-six percent certain that she was in the wrong universe entirely, and she had no clue what had gone wrong.

The green alien took a deep breath and calmed himself. "If that is your attitude, then I hope you're comfortable. You'll be staying in this cell until you tell me."

"But… but…" She wanted to insist that she was just as clueless as he was in this matter, but her words were choked off by wracking sobs.

"Don't worry, little mouse. You'll have plenty of time to mourn your precious planet while you rot in this cell," he spat coldly as he turned in place and stormed from the room. Frieza's right-hand minion left her alone, abandoning her to her misery. She was trapped in this cold universe, and everyone she loved was gone. It was now that she truly regretted her earlier temper tantrum. Vegeta had been perfectly reasonable, and she had acted like a spoiled brat. If only she had bit her tongue like normal. She owed him an apology.

The young scientist dried her tears on her sleeve and steeled herself. If she wanted to live to apologize, then she was going to have to get out of here and off this ship. First things first: time to get out of this cell. She glanced around, hoping for a key. Of course it wasn't that easy. There wasn't even a key hole. It was a bio-lock. She had only seen them a few times before, as they were new technology in her timeline. Luckily, she remembered their basic construction.

They used electricity, and she was still dripping with the water Zarbon used to bring her back to consciousness. Bulma removed her shirt, praying that no one entered the room. She wrung it over the lock and heaved a massive sigh of relief when it shorted out.

Finally free from her cage, the blue-haired scientist took a moment to search the room. There were five other cages, making a total of six. Five stood empty; one held a grizzly corpse. The corpse wore a beat up, slightly singed leather jacket and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. She shorted out that lock as well, stealing the hat. Bulma loved her blue hair, but it was rather noticeable. She tucked it under the hat and made to leave the room. The less she looked like herself, the better.

Cautiously, she tried the door leading from the prison bloc. It was unlocked. She supposed no one had thought that a prisoner might escape from their cell. That made her smile a little. They clearly hadn't captured her before.

"Ship, ship. I need a ship," she muttered under her breath as she glanced upward through her blue bangs. The signs hanging from the ceiling were useless for navigation; they were all in some alien language. Sighing, she picked a random door leading to the outermost part of the ship, or so she thought. She managed to find a mess hall, a medical bay, and at least a dozen private rooms before opening one with promise. This particular, dark room held one spacecraft, probably big enough for up to ten people, emblazoned with a red symbol. It was a spiky trident-like shape, with another U-shaped symbol beneath. She had no clue what it meant, though it looked familiar.

It was then that the lights flicked on. She found herself halfway to the ship when people began pouring into the room in a variety of motley disheveled outfits. Only a few wore shoes. None had any technology: no scouters or blasters, or even so much as a communicator. The last two people to enter the room carried themselves differently. Perhaps it was the fact that they wore neatly-pressed matching uniforms bearing the same symbol as the ship. Perhaps it was that they had gloves, boots, and shiny red scouters. Perhaps it was the jet-black hair that defied gravity and showed they were of Saiyan blood. It was clear that they were in charge. Either way, Bulma didn't want to be seen lurking about their ship. The less attention she attracted, the better.

"Radditz! You said I could pick!" the taller, female, Saiyan whined, carrying on an argument from the hallway.

"Quiet, Cale!" the other barked. "I said you could _help_."

"Let me help then," she pleaded. "We need a woman this time."

"Please," Radditz sneered. "A woman wouldn't be strong enough to hold her own on our ship. The prince would probably kill her off hand."

"Shows what you know," she scoffed.

"Well that's what happened to the last one!"

Bulma felt shivers creep down her spine. These people bore more resemblance to Vegeta than Goku. They were cold killers in Frieza's employ. She was starting to miss her nice, safe prison cell. Ducking low, she snuck behind the last row of... were they prisoners? Their hands and feet were shackled, and they certainly weren't very prosperous. Most of them smelled like urine and body odor. Clearly none of them had fallen unconscious... She made it safely to the last prisoner. Only two people remained between her and the door: the Saiyans. She slid along the wall, hoping she was out of their peripheral vision. She was, in fact, out of the Saiyans' line of sight, though not out of the prisoners'. A few watched as she made her daring escape.

Radditz's arguing died out as Cale continued to bicker. His head turned ever so slightly to the side while he stared into the unwashed masses. He turned, following the stares, and looked straight at Bulma.

"Cale, I think I've made my decision," he said, still staring at Bulma.

"What!" she shrieked. "You haven't even inspected any of them!"

"I see one who stands a chance." He pointed at Bulma, who gulped nervously. Cale glanced around her companion.

"Oh ho!" she exclaimed, flying over to Bulma. "Making a break for it, are we?"

"No shackles. Must have gotten 'em off somehow. Clever girl," he said, smiling.

Bulma found her legs shaking a little as the Saiyans invaded into her personal space. The woman yanked her hat off.

"Look at that pretty hair, would ya?" she remarked. Radditz chuckled. In the quiet room, it sounded positively maniacal.

"We'll never lose her in a crowd," he teased. Cale nodded in agreement, laughing as well. She inspected the human closer, from her fashionable shoes to her tiny hands to her terrified face.

"She has the softest hands," the woman remarked. "Probably a housewife."

"She's a human, from Earth. Probably doesn't have a family anymore."

Bulma noticed the spasm of pain that crossed both of the Saiyans' faces. She guessed that it meant that Frieza had indeed destroyed Vegeta-sei in this timeline. Unfortunately, it looked like she would have plenty of time to find out if she was correct.

"Okay, okay. You picked a good one, Radditz," Cale admitted. "Wanna take bets on how long she'll last?"

Radditz picked up Bulma's slight frame, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of dirty laundry. The stubborn human wasn't about to be taken away that easily. She clamped her teeth onto the shorter Saiyan's ear, biting with all her power. She knew it was mostly futile and just likely to piss him off, but it made her feel better, like she actually stood a chance against two seasoned warriors. Radditz head-butted her, and she spat out his ear.

"With an attitude like that, I give her a day before someone kills her," he bet.

"Two weeks!" Cale declared. "So it's a bet then?" Radditz nodded. Bulma struggled a little, trying to escape the alien's overgrown muscles. If he was anything like the Saiyans she knew, she was horribly outmatched. If they only gave her two weeks maximum to live, then why not go out with a fight? Radditz rolled his eyes.

"Cale, I think we had better tranq this one." He nodded in Bulma's direction.

"Yeah. I got it," she grunted in agreement, reaching into a pocket. She pulled out a little yellow canister containing one little yellow pill. "Eat up, honey. Nighty night," she chuckled, shoving it in Bulma's mouth. The young scientist tried to spit it out, but the Saiyan held her mouth closed. "Behave, and maybe I'll win my bet," she said with a winking. "That's better," she crooned as Bulma lost consciousness.


	2. Out of the Frying Pan

**Hi again everyone,**

**Bear with me during this chapter. It contains a lot of much-needed exposition, which I know can be a little dry. With that said, it also got the ball rolling for chapter 3, which shall be exciting and action packed to make up for it.**

**Thanks as always for reading. I appreciate reviews and PMs. If anyone is kind enough to do either, I will send them a preview of an upcoming chapter by way of thanks.**

**-Kanotari**

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Chapter 2: Out of the Frying Pan

For the second time that day, Bulma awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. Her head throbbed violently; she found a lump. Memories started to come back to her. The lump was from earlier, from Zarbon. The female Saiyan had knocked her out with some sort of pill. The rest of the memories flooded her mind, a wave of grief. Earth was gone. She was trapped in this dark, miserable timeline. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place: being some a captive of a marauding band of Saiyans or escaping to be a captive of Zarbon. At least she could hide on Zarbon's larger ship, she decided. Hopefully they hadn't flown off while she was out.

She placed a hand on the door and pushed, but it refused to budge. Upon examination, she found a bio-lock, much like the one that kept her imprisoned when she first arrived in this timeline. Patting her shirt, she found it dry. Well there goes that idea. She looked around the room. There was a small bed, a little stiff but surprisingly comfortable. There was a closet as well, empty. Dust near the baseboards confirmed her thought that this room was unused most of the time. Little nicks on the wall and worn patches on the door told her it probably had been used in the past. It gave her an idea. Bulma got on her hands and knees, searching the baseboards and the corners of the closet. She stood with one black gravity-defying piece of hair clasped in her hand. Bingo. She held it up to the bio-lock and the door slid open with a hiss.

Bulma was in a short hallway, with a room on each end. Two more rooms branched off on each side. Looking both ways like a child crossing the street, she leaped across the hallway. The hair granted her access to that room as well. It was another bedroom, the mirror image of the one she had just escaped. The main difference was that this one appeared to be inhabited, though currently unoccupied. Bulma the two other side doors, which she presumed to be bedrooms as well. They wouldn't open. Perhaps the person whose hair she held was close with the person who lived across the hallway... She refocused herself. These Saiyans weren't people, they were aliens, and they were killers. The locked doors left her with two remaining options: the doors at either end of the hallway. The hair opened the first one that she tried. It revealed a flight of stairs descending to a lower level. She left them for later. The final door lay before her.

Beyond it lay a kitchen, laden with supplies. Anything servicing Saiyans' appetites would have to be. On the far side of the kitchen was a common room. Seated there were five Saiyans, all staring at her. Radditz burst into laughter. "Told ya she was a smart one, Nappa," he said, nudging the bald Saiyan next to him. "Come over here, girl," Cale called, beckoning. Bulma was smart enough not to be ornery in a room full of people who could kill her with their eyes closed. She stood in front of them.

On the left sat Nappa, the bald one. He was the largest and most muscled of the bunch. He was preoccupied by an elbow fight with Radditz, who sat next to him. Each was trying to elbow the other in the side over something inconsequential, no doubt. He wore a large, toothy grin and seemed to be winning.

Radditz, the male from Zarbon's ship, Bulma had seen before. It was a rather vivd memory. He had been a corpse. She saw his body after Goku and Piccolo killed him, back in her timeline. Cale, laying next to him on the couch, was using his long black hair as a pillow. To Bulma's knowledge, it reached the back of his knees. Since she had met the living version of him, the blue-haired woman swore he had spent every moment laughing. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was part hyena.

Cale shook her head as the boys feuded, playing with the trailing end of Radditz's hair. From the way Cale and Radditz behaved together, Bulma guessed they were together. Cale's hair wasn't quite as long as Radditz's. Hers was tied back in a braid, which dangled down her back. It was practical and out of the way for combat, yet told the world she wasn't another muscle-bound male. She had twined a pink ribbon in it. In fact, she wore a lot of pink. The tank top underneath her armor was pink, her lipstick was pink, her eyeshadow was pink. It was as though she went out of her way to show the others that she was, in fact, a girl.

Next to her was a Saiyan that Bulma had never seen before. His coarse black hair was streaked with grey and he bore a motley collection of scars. His uniform differed from the other Saiyans', for his had no right sleeve. Bulma saw why. His arm was completely mechanical. Bundles of wires mimicked the muscles and tendons, and steel rods served as bones. He was a cyborg, then, Bulma deduced. He also lacked the furry belt that all of his companions wore.

In contrast, the final Saiyan was the smallest, and yet, the most menacing. The glare he gave her was one of pure poison. His black hair defied gravity, standing nearly straight up. On most people, it would look ridiculous. On him, it looked terrifying.

Cale must have felt the awkward silence weighing on her. "I'm Cale," she explained, as one might to a child. "These doofuses are Radditz and Nappa," she continued, gesturing to each in turn. "That's Bannan," she said as she pointed to the cyborg. The fifth needed no introduction; Bulma already knew him. "And this is the prince."

Bulma felt her heart stop. The Prince of All Saiyans stood before her, none other than Vegeta. It was him, yes, but not as she knew him. The Vegeta in her timeline had been saved, freed. He was still a bit of an ass, but she had to admit she found that quality endearing. As he said himself, if Frieza had never existed, he would have been a different person. Apparently if Frieza never died, that statement was also true. He was an entirely different person here and now, in this timeline. This Vegeta was a murderer. He was a tool of Frieza.

"And you are..." Cale prompted, interrupting her reverie.

"Bulma," she said as she returned to the present. "Bulma Briefs."

"Never thought I'd hear that name again," the prince scoffed.

"You know her?" Nappa asked. Bulma was sure the other Saiyans were curious as well. The leaned in to hear the answer. Radditz even stopped his squabble with Nappa. Vegeta shot them a look which clearly told them to drop the question.

"Out now, all of you," he ordered. "I need to talk to this one alone."

"It's been a while, Earth woman. The last time I saw you, you gave me this," he said, pulling back his collar. A faint red line puckered jaggedly across his collar bone. "So I blew your planet up, and you I thought."

Bulma nearly choked. _He _was the one who destroyed Earth? He was (sort of) her friend back home! She hoped he had done it on Freiza's orders, at least. She hoped he wasn't that perverse. On the other hand, she couldn't help but feel proud of her alternate self. She had seen many enemies confront Saiyans, but few left a mark on their opponents. At least other-her had put up a good fight.

"I'm good at escaping," she forced herself to say.

"I have to agree with you. I received an angry call from Zarbon earlier, who accused me of stealing a prisoner whom he wished to deliver to his master. I presume that's you."

Bulma had no idea. Of course she had teleported onto his ship... perhaps Frieza wanted the technology. "He wanted an invention of mine," she explained, leaving out what details she could.

"Tell me you didn't think you could handle Zarbon with some little toy of yours," he laughed. Each peal sent a shiver down her spine. "I think not, the green bastard wouldn't be interested in a new weapon. His master is as strong as he needs to be."

The _his master_ comment perked her ears up. Zarbon's master, not his own. So here, too, Vegeta was dissatisfied under Frieza's command. Maybe that was her ticket out of here. She could offer her inventing abilities, while instead building a time machine to take her home.

"I didn't invent a weapon," she explained, thinking on the fly. "I invented a transportation device. A teleporter. I was testing it. It turns out the targeting system wasn't accurate at all. Imagine, though, to be able to teleport right into Frieza's chambers, to kill him without so much as seeing a guard. You could sneak up on him in his sleep, even." The scientist could see the cogs in Vegeta's head turning.

"Do you think you could build another?" he asked. She saw the excitement in his eyes. He looked so very much like his alternate self. Perhaps he too could be saved if Frieza were gone.

"Well... I am good at more than just escaping," she said with a smirk to rival the prince's. He nodded; the pact was forged. He led her back to the room she had first awakened in. "These shall be your quarters. I'll send Bannan along shortly. He'll provide what supplies you need."

Bulma looked around. The room appeared to be exactly the same as it had been. No point in staying here, she thought, pulling out the hair again. This time she took the stairs. This lower floor had a smaller hallway, with only three doors and another set of stairs. She selected the door on her left. The hair granted her access to a wide, bare room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of the same off-white material. She reached out to touch it. The door slid open again and Radditz, the Saiyan who captured her, stood in the doorway with another, larger, Saiyan. From Cale's introductions, she remembered he was called Nappa. He was bald and intimidating. Bulma didn't like her chances.

Radditz laughed. "I don't know how she got out of the room, never mind found her way down here."

Chuckling, the bald one clapped him on the back. "You know, a girl searching this hard to find you is going to tick Cale off. She had to go through what? Three bio-locks? You have a stalker my friend."

"I'm not a stalker," Bulma muttered under her breath. It only caused the two to laugh harder. She cursed the Saiyans' excellent hearing. The bald one bent down to her height. "I'm Nappa. Nice to meet you, girl. Any girl of Radditz's is a friend of mine."

Bulma flushed bright red. "I'm not his girl."

"That's what they all say," he said, sniggering. The scientist-turned-prisoner was at a loss for words. Radditz smiled at her. "He's just messing with you. Nappa here is the reason we don't usually have female slaves."

"Slaves?" Bulma asked, starting to put together the rather obvious pieces. "You mean I'm your slave?"

Nappa howled with laughter. "Thought you said she was smart."

"What did you think we were ton Zarbon's ship for?" Radditz guffawed. "We weren't there for the food."

Bulma felt pretty dumb. She had kind of known the reality of the situation the whole time, but preferred ignorance to accepting the truth. In one day, she had gone from being the heiress to one of the most profitable technology companies on Earth to a simple slave. She felt herself tearing up.

"Calm down, calm down," Radditz said soothingly. "It's not that bad."

For a genius, Bulma was pretty thoroughly confused. Her captor had just proclaimed her a slave and was now trying to comfort her. That made no sense whatsoever.

"We're nice," Radditz continued. "All you'll really have to do is cook and clean."

Nappa jumped in. "You say cook like that's easy." Bulma knew enough about Saiyans to know that was a daunting task. At least they weren't picky eaters... "You'll get to see all sorts of places. It'll be fun," he cajoled.

She thought about it. In retrospect, cooking for Vegeta and Yamcha took up a lot of her time. It could be worse. She could still be in Zarbon's hands. Here at least she would have some supplies to build another time machine.

A voice spoke over them, presumably using an intercom of some sort, Bulma deduced. "Transmission coming in. Putting it on the common room screen," is said. Nappa and Radditz looked at each other. "Let's go," Nappa said. His friend nodded, and they headed up the stairs, looking a little dejected. Bulma followed. The two Saiyans sat down on the couch with Cale and Bannan. Then she saw the screen. It bore the image of a pale, effeminate face trimmed with purple and topped off with a pair of demonic horns. Though she had never met the monster, she had heard him described. There was no doubt in her mind; this was Frieza. She shuddered involuntarily. That demon was responsible for the deaths of nearly everyone she loved - twice! Bulma moved to sit on the couch with the others. It was a morbid sense of curiosity that made her want to hear the conversation. An arm barred her way. Of course it belonged to Vegeta. She opened her mouth to protest, but she had to admit that Vegeta was probably right. If Frieza was interested in her technology, he shouldn't see her.

Bulma sat in the hallway, where she could hear, but not see or be seen. "We've had a little insurrection on planet 312," the high-pitched voice purred. Radditz swore loudly. "I hate that planet!" he groaned. "It's humid and there are bugs everywhere and... there..." His voice trailed off. Bulma assumed that he'd been silenced by one of Vegeta's trademark glares or perhaps by something Frieza did. "See to it that we won't have any more," Frieza continued. "We'll take care of it," Vegeta answered through gritted teeth. The ice-jinn chuckled darkly. "Good," he crooned. "I'll be sure to keep your home planet safe while you're gone." The transmission and the room were silent.

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**That's it, folks. Again, I apologize for the excessive amount of exposition. Pacing is not my strong suit. **

**Stay tuned for next week when Bulma and the Saiyans descend to the jungles of Planet 312, where they find an army of slaves rising up against their unjust masters, two races poised to wipe each other out, and a mysterious stranger with predictions of destruction. I expect it to be done around Monday the 10th. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Birds of Prey

**Well I did promise that chapter 3 would be out soon... This is just sooner than I planned. What can I say? I'm having fun. **

**If you are interested in knowing when my next chapters will be out, keep an eye on my profile. I'm usually pretty good about keeping everyone posted.**

**In other news, I'm out of reading material. If you would like me to beta read for you, PM me. **

**You know the drill. Please read and review. If you review or send me a PM with your thoughts, I will happily send you a preview of an upcoming chapter. **

**Thanks as always for reading!**

**-Kanotari**

**P.S. This chapter isn't all exposition. Aren't you excited...**

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Chapter 3: Birds of Prey

"Bannan, details," Vegeta snapped, a little on edge from Frieza's comm. The cybernetic Saiyan nodded and began. "312, known to its inhabitants as Planet Cormorant, is covered in dense jungles," he said. His tone of voice resembled a seasoned professor, ready for retirement. "All of you except Cale probably remember the two dominant races, the Khazan and the Rak."

"Hey!" Cale interjected. "I do my research like everyone else!"

Radditz grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the couch. Bulma, who didn't want to miss the fireworks, stuck her head in from the corner. "Calm down, calm down. He didn't mean anything by it," he said, soothing her. "The four of us took it for Frieza before we found you." Cale still looked a little put-out. She hated being inferior to the others, even in small ways. Nappa motioned for Bannan to continue.

"The Khazan are a race of feline humanoids, and most are subservient to Rak masters. The Rak are also humanoids, but winged and with talons. They are fewer than the Khazan, but more vicious. They force the Khazan to mine an ore known as Huitzil. It is a potent explosive, which is why Frieza ordered us to take the planet in the first place."

Vegeta took a minute to absorb the information and combine it with his own experiences. "Cale, you'll need to scout the planet for us. The rest of us might be recognized."

"I'm supposed to scout a whole planet by myself?" she whined agonizingly.

Radditz cut in. "Perhaps Bannan can go too. He didn't have his arm before. Maybe they won't recognize him." Vegeta shot him an incredulous look. Obviously that was out of the question. Bulma stepped out from her listening place in the hallway. "I'll go," she offered. She was stuck in another timeline for a while. Might as well enjoy it. The prince rounded on her.

"You? The slave?" he hissed.

"Yes! You're talking about an entire planet," she pointed out.

"You'll just run off!"

"To where? You blew up my home and killed everyone I've ever cared about."

"And now you want to help me? I'm not going to trust you. Are you an idiot?"

"I happen to be one of the smartest members of my race."

"Well your race must be full of morons."

"Tell you what? You can come along and keep an eye on me."

"Foolish woman! The whole point was for me not to be recognized."

"So disguise yourself," she said incredulously. Cale jumped in delight.

"Yes yes, Prince Vegeta. We can disguise you." If looks could kill, Vegeta would have killed her on the spot. Cale ran out of the room and came back with a cloak. She tossed it at him. It hit him square in the chest and fell to the floor. He looked pathetically at her. Bannan handed each of them an earpiece, which they put on. "Test," he said into a microphone built into his right wrist. Bulma heard the cyborg both in her ear and from the other side of the room. Vegeta and Cale both flashed a thumbs up at their pilot. Bulma did the same.

Cale led them to the lowest deck of the ship, skipping ahead, excited to explore a new planet. Prince Vegeta sulked behind her, Bulma behind, staying away from his gaze and his attention. Bannan brought up the rear. Cale was sealed into her pod before anyone else had set foot on the deck. Bulma stood hesitantly. She couldn't pilot one of these things. Before she had too much time to think, however, Vegeta roughly pushed her into a pod. He gracefully leapt in after her, shoving her to the side. Bannan tossed the cloak in with a smirk, then closed the door. The prince belted himself in and waved at Bannan, a signal. Bulma followed his lead in the uncomfortably cramped pod. She searched for another set of straps, but this was a pod designed for one. Bannan pushed a few buttons and the two pods detached from the ship. Cale and Vegeta expertly piloted their respective pods, flying down to the surface of Cormorant. They landed smoothly in the middle of uninhabited jungle near a major city. Mosquitoes the size of chihuahuas buzzed angrily as they stepped out of the pods. Bulma rubbed her arm, which had been forced into the glass upon impact. She vowed to learn to pilot a pod so she wouldn't have to suffer such indignity again.

With a well-rehearsed pout, Vegeta donned the cloak. His hair made the hood look a bit ridiculous, so he left it down while they trekked through the rough terrain. Radditz had summed up the planet pretty accurately in Bulma's eyes. The bugs swarmed around any potential source of food, including her, and they bit frequently. She was dripping with sweat, though the walk wasn't terrible and it wasn't very warm. It was so humid, it felt like she was swimming through the air. Despite all the drawbacks, Bulma felt butterflies of excitement take flight in her stomach as the city came into view. "Kestral," Vegeta explained grumpily, while he gingerly placed the hood over his hair.

The step-pyramids of Kestral sparkled in the sun. In each one resided a Rak family and several hundred Khazan slaves, Bannan informed her through the earpiece. The Khazan bustled around the marketplace area they had just stepped into. Merchants sold baskets of tropical fruit, beads, pottery, and jewelry, all for handfuls of shiny ore. Metals appeared to be commonplace. Cale bought a few melons, eating one and making Bulma carry the rest. Bright flattened metals were used as decoration all over the market, making it look like a cornfield designed to scare off crows. Despite being trapped far away from home with her friends and family beyond reach, Bulma felt pretty happy. She could do this, journey through space. She would love to experience more wonderful planets like this. Her thoughts sobered as she remembered their purpose. Reconnaissance for an attack. Looking around, she didn't see any obvious signs of the insurrection the Saiyans were supposed to quash. Then she noticed the cautious area scan the Khazan did whenever they spoke to someone of their race, the way they purchased what they needed and then left in haste, the glances at the tops of the pyramids.

Atop the nearest pyramid sat a Rak, red and gold plumage sparkling in the sun. He was watching the market, though what he was looking for, Bulma didn't know. Then he was gone, swooping toward the market at break-neck speeds. When Bulma caught sight of him again, a struggling Khazan was in his talons. The brown cat-like creature was brandishing a scimitar at its captor, but it was too late. The Rak released its victim, flying back to its pyramid perch clutching the scimitar. The Khazan splattered on the cold stone ground. Several more Rak flew down from their perches and picked the bones clean. Bulma felt sick to her stomach at the sight. She could see why the Khazan were unhappy, why they were rebelling, and she wanted to help them. More than ever, she just wanted to go home."

"Look at that," Cale said, wonder in her voice. "That necklace is gorgeous!" She handed a hunk of fool's gold to the shopkeeper. He bowed deeply, furry ears touching the ground. Cale then tossed it at Bulma. "Carry this for me, would ya?" she said, without waiting for an answer. Bulma didn't understand how the other woman could be so callous. They had just witnessed someone being murdered, and no one had batted an eye!

"Just keep your eyes open, Cale," Vegeta muttered as he rolled his eyes. "We'll search the residential area."

Vegeta inclined his head, an indication for Bulma to follow him. She did so obediently. A little Khazan tugged at her pants. "Can you spare some food, lady?" it asked. She smiled and handed the little kitten a melon. Vegeta rolled his eyes at her, but said nothing. Away from the larger pyramids, the buildings grew smaller and changed materials. Most were only a single story, and nothing more than holes carved in the mountainside. Cloth and metal were scarce here, unlike in the brightly colored market.

Vegeta adjusted the cloak over his head. He felt like people were staring at him. He was sure his hair was making the hood sit awkwardly, but he couldn't take it off. A hand slipped around his forearm, and another over his mouth. The prince cursed himself for his lack of focus as he was pulled into a building. The hands freed him and gingerly stepped away. Vegeta was left staring at a robed and hooded man. He must be very powerful, he thought, to have successfully ambushed a fully-trained Saiyan warrior.

"How dare you seize the Prince of All Saiyans!" he seethed. "I will wipe your race from the face of this planet."

"It is for your own good, young prince," his attacker said, apologetically.

"I think that is for me to decide," he shot back, turning to leave.

"I have news that will greatly interest you," the mysterious person said. Vegeta paused and turned around.

"And that would be?" His curiosity was piqued.

"It concerns your employer," the stranger continued. "He plans to destroy your entire race."

"There's a surprise," Vegeta replied sarcastically, attempting to leave again.

"From there, he will destroy the universe with his own greed," the hooded man added.

"Why are you telling me?" the Saiyan commander demanded. "Frieza will squash me like a bug if I raise a finger against him." Vegeta had his pride, but he was no fool.

"Now, yes. What you say is true. If you listen to me, however, you could be free." The stranger knew he had won. Vegeta's eyes glistened with excitement.

"Tell me." The stranger lowered his hood.

"You're... you're a Kanassan! But your race is supposed to be extinct!" The Saiyan spat. It explained how the stranger knew he would be here, and how he knew Frieza's plans. Frieza hated the Kanassan race, for they had the gift of prophecy. They had seen it coming when he sent a squad of Saiyans to wipe them out. They fought bravely, though they knew they would die.

"Your master missed a few of us. Our people have always protected the Cult of Bardock." The name rang a bell. Bardock... Bardock... wasn't he some low class warrior? Yes, Vegeta remembered. He had run screaming to his father, King Vegeta, informing him that Frieza wanted to destroy their home. He had led the team that annihilated the Kanassans! It all made sense now.

"So you knew Bardock would be the one to kill you, and you gave him the gift of prophecy," he said, putting the pieces together.

"Correct young prince. I knew you were the one the prophecies pointed to." Vegeta was a little unsettled that they knew his future. "We shall owe you and your wife a debt of gratitude."

"My what?" Vegeta shot, surprised. He had planned to never marry. It would give Frieza more leverage over him, which was the last thing he needed.

"Your wife. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that. Tricky thing, telling people their own destiny," he chuckled, bemused. Vegeta shrugged off the comment. He didn't care if the future was set in stone. He would choose his own path, no matter who stood in his way.

"So, young prince, here is what you must do. You shall need allies. You are no fool; your team cannot kill Frieza. Talk to the Rak and Khazan leaders. Forge an alliance between them, and forge an alliance with you. Promise the Rak their mines and the Khazan a world of their own. They will follow." Vegeta nodded solemnly. It made sense, plus it was a peaceful solution. He wasn't a peaceful man himself, but nor was Frieza. Missing a little senseless slaughter was a price he was willing to pay to stick it to that cocky ice-jinn.

"One more thing," the Kanassan added. "Be sure to take that human with you."

* * *

**Stay tuned for next week, when the Khazan insurrection boils into full-on war, Vegeta tries his hand at diplomacy, and Bulma's life as a slave takes a turn for the worse.**


	4. Curiosity Killed the Cats

**Hey everyone,**

**Well... three chapters in three days. I am quite impressed with myself, more so because this chapter involves lots and lots of translating. It seems the more original I am, the easier it is to write. Seeing as I planned on releasing chapter 2 tonight and 3 a week from tomorrow, I think I deserve the rest of the night off.**

**I know I promised translations, but if ya'll want another chapter today, which I hope (but not promise) to do, then I'm going to ask for some patience. I have another promise to renege on. I promised people who review a preview of an upcoming chapter, but as you can see, I'm not really keeping much in the tank here. I have a paragraph of the next chapter. And I'm probably not keeping it because it sucks. So sorry about that. You can have a preview of my other story if you really want it.**

**One last thing. Due to this whole chapter a day thing, I barely read my own chapters, never mind proof read. If you see a typo or a continuity error, let me know. Send me a PM. I won't notice otherwise. Much appreciated!**

**Enjoy!**

**-Kanotari**

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Chapter 4: Curiosity Killed the Cats

Cale wandered through the market. It was the first time she had been alone in a while. Her arms were ladened with the fruits of her shopping, under the guise of scouting, of course. An electronic hiss in her ear reminded her that she was wearing an earpiece. Of course she wasn't truly alone. "That red and gold rak dead ahead of you is Vireo, the local representative to the Flock, the council of rak leaders. He has a mean streak, and he doesn't like foreigners," Bannan transmitted.

"That would have been nice to know thirty seconds ago," she groaned, as the bird-like creature spotted her and advanced.

"Fremdulo, kio estas via intenco ĉi tie?" it asked. The cyborg heard, and translated for her. "He wants to know why you are here. Answer 'Provisoj.' It means supplies."

"Provisoj," she repeated.

"Vi mensogas," he spat. "Nia planedo estas izolita."

"Bannan," she muttered under her breath.

"This takes time, you know," he shot back. They were both feeling the pressure. Cale examined Vireo's talons. He had decorated them with jewels, but they still looked quite deadly. Her saiyan strength was impressive yes, but a rak might just be a match.

"Ni serĉas Khazan sklavoj. Say that," Bannan ordered. "You're looking for Khazan slaves."

"Ili ne estas la vendo," Vireo answered.

"They aren't for sale," Bannan translated.

"Good. I don't want Khazan slaves," she muttered into the receiver.

"Ĉiuj scias tion. Eble vi venas de nia sinjoro," the avian continued, his voice rising in pitch. Whatever he said, he was suspicious, Cale decided.

"Um..." Bannan stalled as he searched frantically for the translation. "He thinks if you wanted slaves, you would have known that Khazan are never for sale. He thinks you work for Lord Frieza."

"I can't tell him that he's right!" she whispered, panicking.

"Oh yes you can. Vi estas saĝa. Mi servas al li."

"But I don't want to say that!" she said, perhaps a little louder than she should have.

"You don't have anything else to say! Vi estas saĝa. Mi servas al li. There's even a compliment in there."

"Fine," she sighed. "Vi estas saĝa. Mi servas al li."

"Ah!" the bird replied. "Permesu al mi esti gastama."

"He offered to be your host, Cale. Go with him."

"I don't want to go with the scary bird," she hissed at her receiver.

"I'm sending Radditz and Nappa down. We've been compromised anyway. They'll meet you at Vireo's pyramid."

Bulma looked back. Vegeta was easy to spot in his ridiculous cloak, yet she didn't see him anywhere. Hmph, she thought. Wasn't he paranoid about me running away? She supposed she should find him. The blue-haired genius continued down the street. She doubted he had gone into one of the houses. He would have little interest in them. He would be looking for the biggest, scariest kitty he could find. Luckily, he had lots of options. Bulma realized that the khazan were staring at her.

"Karno por la vespermanĝo?" a tawny one asked an orange one with green eyes. Bulma didn't recognize the language, but she recognized parts of it. Vespers was Latin, a time of prayer in the evening; dinner time. 'Karno' reminded her of carnivore. Oh dear. She hoped they weren't discussing eating her for dinner. They licked their chops and advance. Well... at least she was good at translating.

"Amigo," she shouted, holding her hands up in a gesture of peace. Since their language seemed similar to Spanish, she hoped they would understand. A voice in her ear corrected her. "It's 'amiko' in their language," it said.

"Bannan?" she asked, looking to the sky.

"Aye," he confirmed. "I was aiding Cale. She ran into a rak chieftain."

"Any aid would be appreciated."

"Repeat after me. Mi estas ĉi tie por helpi."

"Mi estas ĉi tie por helpi," she repeated. The two khazan looked at her skeptically.

"Vi proponas helpi kontraŭ la rak?" the orange one said, seemingly surprised.

"Say 'Jes. Portu min al via ĉefo," Bannan instructed. She did as she was told.

Both felines nodded, bowing.

"Mi estas Serval, kaj tiu estas Pallas," the tawny one informed her.

"He says his name is Serval and the other is Pallas," Bannan translated.

"I know," Bulma replied.

"You're learning quickly," he chuckled.

"It's a mix of Spanish and Latin, mostly."

"Tiamaniere bonvolu, sinjorino," Pallas said, gesturing.

"Follow me, miss?" she asked her earpiece. Bannan confirmed it. She held up a finger, in a gesture meaning 'in a minute'. The cat-people seemed to understand.

"How do I ask them where Vegeta is?" she asked the cyborg.

"You lost him?" he asked. "And I thought you could speak rak."

"I can understand it and speak individual words, maybe. The grammar is beyond me," she explained. "As for Vegeta, one minute he was there, and the next he was gone."

"I don't have a visual on him. He must be in a building. Ask them 'Ĉu vi vidis mian amiko? Mia alteco, pinta nigra hararo?' " She repeated the question. Serval nodded, saying, "Scio. Li estas kun Scio."

"He is with knowledge," Bannan translated. Bulma had arrived at the same translation.

"Tie estas!" Pallas exclaimed, pointing over her shoulder. Sure enough, the oddly-cloaked figure walked out of a house and began looking around.

"Vegeta," Bulma called, jumping and waving. He caught sight of her and walked in that direction.

"Woman," he growled, "you shall address me as 'Prince' or as 'Sir'."

"If you stop calling me 'woman', then I'll start addressing you like royalty," she shot back.

"You are my slave. I will address you as I please, woman," he snorted.

"I don't have time for this," she muttered. Then, in a louder voice, "These are Serval and Pallas." She pointed to each in turn. She introduced Vegeta to them as well. "Jen Vegeta," she said in the rak language, then returned to the prince. "They're taking us to the khazan leader."

Vireo sent his guards to guide Radditz and Nappa to them. He was canny and shrewd, two qualities which had secured him his position in the rak community. A finely dressed khazan sat on the floor next to Vireo's chair. The cat wore a silver collar emblazoned with golden talons. "Al Saiyajin, ne?" Vireo asked the feline.

"I am Aurata," she explained. "Lord Vireo wishes me to ask if you are a Saiyan."

"I am a proud Saiyan," Cale replied. "It is good to hear my own language, Aurata." Aurata translated for her master, who had more to say.

"He wishes to ask what you do for Lord Frieza, and assures you that he remains most loyal."

"My team is here to put down the insurrection. We have very vague orders," she explained. Aurata giggled. "I shall leave out that last part, miss." She repeated Cale's words in the rak language. Vireo responded again.

"He assures you he has everything under control," the grey khazan explained. "He will dispose of the trouble-making khazan and resume the ore shipments." She looked pale at the thought.

"That's terrible!" Cale said, her face construing worry. "Why not negotiate with your people first? He doesn't have to kill them off hand." She paused for a moment. "Make that a little more polite for me, please," the saiyan asked with a smile. The khazan smiled back.

"Ne mortigu la sklavoj. Tio minimizar erco sendoj. Negocas, kaj ili laboros pli forte," she explained to her lord.

"Ili estas stultaj homoj. Komprenas sola la perforto," he replied, brows furrowed.

"I informed him that you thought murdering my people would minimize ore shipments, and that you suggested negotiation. You were very articulate, miss," Aurata giggled. She sobered as she continued. "He believes my people are stupid and understand only violence."

"You seem perfectly reasonable to me," Cale said dryly. "Ask him to reconsider if I can arrange a meeting with the khazan leadership."

"You are wise, miss. My people thank you," the feline said gratefully. She asked Vireo, and he nodded.

"My lord keeps his position only as long as the ore flows. He knows your master would kill for it, and his fellow rak wish to keep their cowardly lives," she growled, licking her fangs. Vireo recognized the threatening action, and clawed at her, screeching in his harsh language. A talon slashed the young cat-person's eye and blood poured onto the carpet. Cale rushed to help her. Using the floor covering to stop the bleeding, she whispered to the girl. "It'll be alright. It'll be alright."

"I will probably lose the vision in my eye," she gurgled. "But yes, I will live. My lord thought I was threatening you. He would not want your master's precious envoy harmed." There was a little bitterness in her voice. The elegant rak behind her gave a screeching, yet unmistakable, laugh.

" Kion mi volas diri? Ŝi estus atakita vi," he said coldly.

"My lord says 'See what I mean. She would have attacked you.' My actions have harmed the reputation of my people," she whispered regretfully.

"I will keep my word. I will find your khazan leaders and ask them for a meeting. When I return, I shall buy you from him," she vowed.

"My people are never for sale," she replied sadly. "I am afraid my people would suspect a trap at any meeting." Cale fingered her tail thoughtfully.

"Fear not. I can be quite persuasive. Tell your master I will meet my companions outside, and we shall go to arrange the meeting." Aurata nodded.

"Ask for Farewell, miss. And many thanks."

Chieftainess Oncilla and her mate Felis greeted Vegeta with kindness, but also recognition.

"You are the one who caused this harm to my people," she declared. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Bulma snorted softly from her position on the floor. "I bet he gets that all the time," she chuckled under her breath.

"Silence, slave!" he demanded.

"A slaver as well, young prince," Oncilla said with marked sadness. "It explains much about you." Felis licked a fang menacingly.

"Your actions upon your last visit caused my people's living conditions to suffer. We die of starvation in hordes, forced to dine on vegetables like rodents. We slave in the mines, where many are beat to death for insubordination or crushed and trapped in cave-ins and explosions. Yes, we were second-class citizens before, but we were never slaves whose lives amounted to little but money. Your master has done us no good."

"I acknowledge that," he replied stoically. He knew the feeling. His 'master,' after all, held his home and his people hostage to ensure good behavior.

"Tell me, young prince, what is your purpose here?" she demanded calmly.

"My lord has ordered me to quell the rebellion here, and see to it that it does not happen ever again. That means your life." Bulma gasped in shock.

"There must be a better way, Vegeta," she pleaded. "Prince Vegeta, sir."

"Quiet, woman," he ordered.

"We can negotiate with the rak. Improve the khazans' conditions, sir."

"I told you to be quiet," he snapped, eyeing her dangerously.

"The khazan have every reason to be angry."

"I can get a new slave," he hissed, snaking his hand around her throat.

"Solve this peacefully and I'll build that teleporter you wanted. I'll start tonight." He enjoyed combat, yes, but senseless slaughter was just a chore. Add the teleporter onto that, and, well, the choice was clear.

" Peace would aggravate Frieza without violating his orders," she cajoled. The hand on her throat eased.

"If it will shut you up for five minutes, then fine," he spat. He wasn't one to admit when others were right. "What say you, Chieftainess?"

"Any negotiation would likely be a trap," she replied bitterly. Bulma stood and cleared her throat.

"I have seen Prince Vegeta and his companions fight many times before. They are brave and strong warriors. I have every confidence that they can keep you safe." Vegeta pushed the blue-haired girl down to the floor.

"This is your last warning. Silence." He turned back to Oncilla. "My men will keep your envoy safe. Peace is in everyone's best interests."

Oncilla nodded. "Peace is indeed the wisest course. I shall attend on one condition."

"And that is..." he asked skeptically.

"Your slave must attend as well. She speaks more wisely than her owners."

Vegeta shot her a look of bitterness. He should have left her on the ship. He could simply have killed the chieftainess and the more problematic khazan, knocked off a few prominent rak, and been back to the ship for dinner. The kanassan's words came back to him: be sure to take that human with you. Well he had, and things had not gone as planned. He wished the cultist had been less cryptic. Exactly how was Frieza going to destroy the universe? How long did he have to destroy him? Could he save his home planet? "Accursed mystics," he swore under his breath.

A blue and gold winged rak found Cale, Radditz, and Nappa. The locals remembered the Saiyans, and not fondly. Getting information required threats, and still none would speak of the khazan leaders. They were frustrated when the rak appeared, expecting impatience from Vireo. Instead, he informed them, "La khazan ekspresoj alvenis," or "the khazan emmisaries have arrived," as Bannan explained.

"Via ĉeesto petas," he continued. "Your presence is requested."

Cale was reminded of Aurata, and of her promise. She smirked. The prince probably wouldn't approve of that particular purchase. The prince in question was already at the meeting place with the slave girl. He inclined an eyebrow at the two saiyans who flanked her, and Cale remembered that he probably didn't know they'd come planet-side. Another interesting observation was that the slave girl was seated next to the khazan chieftaness. Prince Vegeta looked sulky. He didn't like being upstaged.

Vireo called the meeting to order in his harsh voice. "Mi deklaras tiuj intertraktadoj malfermita." Aurata translated, with a wide smile. "My lord declares these negotiations open." The red and gold rak gestured toward the khazan.

"He requests their terms," the enslaved translator explained for the non-natives.

"Nia terminoj estas tiuj: laborantoj kaj iliaj pakoj devas nutras. La batadoj ĉesos. Rak voktoj estos anstataŭita per khazan. Ĉefe, ni estos liberaj," Oncilla purred. "She demands that workers and their families be fed, rak taskmasters be replaced with khazan, the ceasing of beatings, and above all, freedom for their kind," Aurata explained. Vireo let out a series of caws that were clearly laughter. He called three more rak into the room, and repeated the requests, cawing away. They others joined in as they were clearly supposed to.

"Mi malpliiĝos," he said menacingly. "I decline," Aurata whispered.

* * *

**For those of you wondering, the rak language is actually Esperanto. The khazan speak it as well, since they are subservient to the rak. And also because translating to one language is difficult enough. I'm no J.R.R. Tolkien. I can't make up entire languages. Have an entire conversation in Quenya Elvish, maybe, but lore isn't my strong suit. Translations will be up eventually. I think I've included enough information to understand the story without them. If I haven't, let me know.**

**For those of you still interested, the name 'khazan' was inspired by the 'khajiit' from the Elder Scrolls series. Pallas, Serval, and Oncilla are cat species. Aurata is scientific nomenclature for the African Golden Cat. Felis is nomenclature as well. 'Rak' were the flying experience... ahem... I mean flying birds from Borderlands. Vireo and the other rak are all species of birds. Cormorant, the name of the planet, is a species as well. Kind of reminded me of Coruscant, from Star Wars. The kanassan, Scio, is named after the Esperanto word for knowledge.**

**Stay tuned for next week, when the temporary truce between the rak and the khazan dissolves, the saiyan mission is blown, and everyone fervently wishes for translation devices.**


	5. KO

**Hi everyone,**

**I realized I've been giving a disproportional amount of attention to Cale and Bannan, my OCs. I would like you all to realize that it wasn't intentional. I try to treat all five saiyans impartially, using the one whose personality or skills are best suited for a situation. Cale and Bannan just happened to be convenient. Luckily, Bannan is no longer fit for combat, and the other four are. Even better, Cale is young, naive, and sucks at combat. So hopefully this chapter will balance out the attention. **

**To answer some questions: I think Goku died of heart disease in this timeline. I'm not sure yet. Yes, Bardock will be in this story. Doing what, I'm not sure yet. As for who's room Bulma found herself in when she first woke up on the saiyan ship, I'm thinking Tarble's, but I'm not sure yet. Is anyone sensing a theme?**

**_There will most likely not be a new chapter tomorrow. I will be away from my laptop all day._ We'll see about Thursday.  
**

**I apologize in advance for the bloodbath. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken inspiration from the last chapter title. Thanks for reading,**

**-Kanotari**

_One more thing: to the person who left me the anonymous super-long, super awesome review. Thank you thank you. I am framing that and putting it on my wall. You made me cry. Next chapter... dedicated to you buddy. Seriously. And I am totally stealing your story premise. It shall be very sparkly. After this story is done, of course ;) You want me to say 'your royal highness', you got it. Thanks for the nit pick. I did not know that. But now I do. I'm very glad you like Bannan and Cale. I like them too. Made my day :) -Kanotari_

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Chapter 5

K.O.

Everyone expected it, but the disappointment was palpable. Neither Vireo or Oncilla would budge. Any decrease in ore shipment would me Vireo's head. Oncilla would not rest until her people were free of the rak tyranny.

"Negociaciones levis," the bird hissed menacingly.

"Negotiations over," Aurata whispered as eight more rak filed into the tiny room, a myriad of colors. Beautiful, yet deadly.

"Estu prudenta," Oncilla pleaded. "She's asking him to be reasonable," Bulma translated.

"Prudenta kaj favorkora estas ne la sama," he cawed. His fellow rak joined in the laughter. "Reasonable and merciful aren't the same," Bulma deduced. No one needed the translation. Claws and talons were bared. The saiyans' tails unwound from their waists.

"Aurata," Cale whispered. "If this gets violent, run to me. I'll keep you safe." Radditz looked at her questioningly. "I've adopted a slave," she explained. He shook his head and smiled. It was so like her.

"Nek estas perforto kaj potencon," Felis hissed from behind his mate. The rak would suffer no insult. He took flight, swooping toward the hissing felinid. His beak clashed with fangs, though not Felis's. Oncilla was determined to protect her people, yes, but perhaps more determined to protect her mate. She slashed at the rak's throat and four bloody lines dyed his golden feathers. They were deep enough to cut, but not to kill. He retaliated by seizing her shoulders with his talons. They punctured the fur as he tossed the chieftainess about like a rag doll. Felis leapt in to rescue his wife. His teeth clamped on a wing, shattering bone and grounding the rak. When the fight became two on one, the other rak jumped to action.

A green and blue one pounced on Aurata. She was no part of this fight, yet she was khazan and therefore an enemy. Cale and Radditz joined the fray. The green and blue rak flew out a window carrying the enslaved translator. Cale followed, her power level spiking. Radditz followed Cale.

"Nappa, hold the birds off while I break this up," Vegeta barked. Nappa had been a military man for too long to disobey an order from his commander, even at the cost of his life. He faced down the ten or so remaining rak, barring them from their leaders' combat. The odds were not in Nappa's favor, Bulma could see. Instinctively, she searched the room. Warrior species bred for combat had little need of weapons, but she was a pink, squishy human. She went to the gym to keep her slim figure, not to defeat violent aliens. A metal wall hanging caught her eye. It was an elaborate carving of a hawk in flight. It mattered little, but it was sharp and heavy. Mustering all her strength, she pulled it from the wall and flung it at the nearest rak. It ripped a line across one of his wings. Its attention turned from the muscled Saiyan to the tiny human.

Bulma regretted her decision almost immediately. She was an extremely foolish human with no means of self-defense: her life was history. The advancing rak licked its beak. Oh right, she remembered, they eat meat. Oh right, she also remembered, I am meat. A rush of hot air sped past her face. A bright blue ball of what looked to be pulsing energy slammed into the hungry rak. The blue and gold feathers dissolved almost instantly. Its torso, still smoking, dropped to the floor. It was clearly dead. She was saved! Nappa was preoccupied, Cale and Radditz were outside, and Bannan was back on the ship. Unless the khazan were capable of using ki as a weapon, only one person could have saved her: Prince Vegeta.

He appeared to be preoccupied as well, as he held Vireo's bleeding throat in one hand. He stood on Felis's back; Oncilla was dead. "Mia vivo-kompano! Vi mortigis sxin, vi besto," Felis cried. He was mourning his mate's death, and swearing revenge upon the slaver. Upon closer inspection, Bulma noted that the prince's leg, which pinned Felis to the ground, was covered in claw marks from the felinid's struggling. Blood pooled around his foot. The arm which held Vireo aloft was in similar shape. Bulma pondered why he didn't simply finish them both off with ki blasts, as he had done to the rak attacking her. Perhaps he still hoped to reach a peaceful agreement. An idea came to her.

"Vireo! Felis! Mi plano," she called. It was terrible grammar, she was sure. She could only hope that the two leaders would understand that she had a plan. Vireo turned a glittering eye to her, and Felis's ears twitched.

"Paco unua," she declared. Peace first. The struggling petered out. "Vegeta, let them go." He glared at her, and she rolled her eyes. "If it would please you, your royal highness, would you please let them go?" she modified, scathingly. He complied with a smirk.

"Now..." she began.

Cale flew after the rak holding Aurata with a cold fury. The khazan girl was innocent. She had done nothing to the rak; on the contrary, she served Vireo loyally. Radditz flew after Cale with the same determination. He wouldn't let anything happen to Cale, and if Cale wanted to save the little khazan, then he would help her. The rak shrieked angrily as it noticed its pursuers. It probably hadn't expected the saiyans to fly. The blue and green bird dropped his prey and turned to face the predators.

Radditz remembered back to his last time on the planet. The khazan and the rak were both tribal migrant people. They interacted peacefully when they met, but mostly left each other alone. Then they had arrived. Prince Vegeta had promised the rak mining technology that would make them fabulously wealthy and prosperous under the rule of Lord Frieza. They turned on the khazan without a second thought. Prince Vegeta, well all of them really, and Lord Frieza were responsible for everything the khazan had suffered. They held the blame for every life lost here. He would not have another on his conscience. He dived for the girl.

Cale saw Radditz racing to catch Aurata, helplessly falling to her death below. That pleased her. She could save the little one and get her revenge all at the same time. Killing him with ki just wouldn't be satisfying enough. She caught an emerald wing. It folded neatly, as if she were making origami, except with blood and anguished screeches. Then she simply let him rak could not fly with only one functional wing, though he tried. The ground received him with open arms.

"Vireo, donaco de teknologio? Produkti multajn erco," she asked in broken rak. "If I donate mining technology to the rak, they can produce lots of ore," she explained to the saiyans. The red and gold bird nodded solemnly.

"Donu khazan kio volas," she demanded. Felis gasped from under the prince's foot.

"You would free my people?" he asked, awe in his voice. She smiled and nodded.

Bulma pulled a cell phone from her pocket, holding it up. If Earth was gone, who the heck was she going to call anyway?

"Por komunikado," she explained. For communication. Vireo looked skeptical. Communication was fine and dandy, but it didn't help him produce ore for Frieza. She removed the back.

"Potenco. Energio," she said, showing him the battery.

"An advanced power supply?" Felis asked. "He murders my life-mate and you give him powerful presents?"

"I'll give it to him if he meets all of your wife's terms," she said. Vegeta cleared his throat. He disliked being forgotten.

"Of course if my master, the prince agrees," she continued, hastily. "Sir."

There was a clatter at the window. Radditz flew in, carrying Aurata. Cale followed. All three seemed a little surprised at the temporary truce.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked. "Can I give him my phone?"

"Technically its mine. I own you, so I own it," he growled.

"Can I?"

"If it will get me off this planet, then fine. Do it," he spat.

"Vireo?" Bulma asked as she turned to him. "If I give you this technology, will you swear to meet all of the khazans' terms?" Felis repeated the question for the rak.

"Sur mia ovo," the rak chieftain declared. On my egg. Bulma turned to Felis.

"Felis, will you and your kind agree to keep the peace, provided your terms are met?" she asked.

"Sur mia vivo-kompano la animon," he swore, looking into Vireo's eyes. Aurata gave a little gasp. "On my life-mate's soul, he promises," she whispered. The young khazan noticed Oncilla's lifeless body. She leapt from Radditz's arms and crossed the room on all fours. "Patrino!" she cried, petting the corpse's ear gently, tears streaming down her face.

"Mother?" Bulma translated, thoroughly confused.

"Murdisto!" she growled at Vireo, baring her fangs. The rak lord's remaining warriors shrieked, presenting their talons and beaks. One pounce and it was over. The little khazan disappeared in a cloud of feathers and a cacophony of bird noises. Vireo's soldiers bore no respect for the dead. A kill meant dinner. Their beaks, perfectly designed for ripping flesh, did their jobs. Cale was too proud to cry, though she dearly wanted too. Bulma, on the other hand, had no such indignity.

"I would kill you myself, if it wouldn't harm the rest of the khazan," she threatened through narrow eyes. Her anger was so vast, that she had forgotten the bird didn't speak her language. She threw her phone at him and stormed out of the room. Nappa followed, badly injured from his difficult fight. Radditz ushered Cale out. The grief and anger in her eyes threatened to break the already tenuous peace. He would feel be frightened for his life, if he were Vireo. Vegeta was left alone in the room with the respective leaders of each species.

"Translate for me, cat," he ordered Felis. "Your word means little to me, bird. Tell me, who is your next of kin?" Felis knew better to disobey. The prince was in a foul mood.

"Via promeso signifas malmulta. Kiu estas via posteulo?" he asked, clearly disliking his position under the saiyan's foot.

"Junko," he hissed, flicking his head in the direction of another crimson rak.

"His son," the frightened khazan explained when the prince's onyx eyes glared at him, demanding an explanation.

"All hail the new king," he smirked and squeezed. "Vivu la reĝo," were the last words Vireo ever heard. The lights went out in his eyes as his neck snapped. The rak warriors encircled Vegeta, keening angrily. The prince smiled as he blasted one right out of existence. That slowed their attack. "Junko, honor the bargain made with your father or join him," he demanded. Felis translated, his voice quivering in fear. The scarlet rak dropped to his knees and crossed a wing over his chest. His warriors did the same. Vegeta pointed to the khazan corpses in the corner. "If I hear of a single death, I will be back."

* * *

**Stay tuned for next week, when the saiyans are called for an audience with Lord Frieza, a new mission assignment appears, and the Cult of Bardock returns.**


	6. Pain is the Root of Knowledge

**1,000 views in 4 days, for this story alone. Thank you so much. That is more views than my stories combined get in some months. I'm glad ya'll like it. I'm having fun writing, so I hope you're having fun reading. Five for five. ;) Let's see how long this chapter a day keeps going. My apologies if this isn't the greatest chapter. I wrote it in about an hour, because as I said, I didn't have my laptop all day. Sorry it's a little short. **

**As I've said before, I am writing this extremely quickly. I don't have time for a lot of proof-reading. I don't notice typos or continuity errors. Please let me know if you see them. **

**I love reviews, favorites, and follows, especially reviews. Please please let me know what you think. I haven't had a single negative review so far, so again, thank you. I'm glad everyone likes it so far.**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 6: Pain is the Root of Knowledge

Cale locked herself in her room and refused to come out. Radditz was the only one her bio-lock would let in, and she threw things at him until he finally gave up. "I'll try again in a few hours," he dejectedly explained to Nappa.

"Sparring?" the older saiyan suggested.

"Yeah. Punching things sounds good right about now," he sighed. The two ran off to the training room on the bottom deck. Bannan, on the other hand, was extremely excited about the day's events.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a linguist?" he asked Bulma.

"Because I'm not," she laughed. "I only speak four languages."

"Four! That's three more than most people!"

"Japanese, English, Spanish, and Saiyan."

"But how did you learn Saiyan?" he asked, head cocked sideways.

"Oh I knew a few back in the day..." she said vaguely, hoping it would satisfy the aging saiyan.

"So did I," he joked. "Come now. Tell me who taught you." Bulma had actually learned a little from Vegeta back home. Her Vegeta was gentler than this one, though equally as proud of his race. He pretended to tire of her incessant questions, but the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his dead planet... She knew he enjoyed every moment of it. Unfortunately, that was her Vegeta. This callous prince wouldn't give her the time of day, never mind lessons in a dead language. She improvised.

"My childhood friend Goku taught me," she fibbed, rubbing the back of her neck.

"That certainly doesn't sound like a saiyan name," Bannan said skeptically. "And I've never heard of him."

"I always forget. That was his Earth name. His birth name was Kakarrot, I believe."

"Kakarrot! You mean Radditz's brother!" he laughed, surprised.

"The same," she nodded.

"Hey Radditz!" the cyborg called down the hallway. "Did you... know..." He stopped talking as he realized the younger saiyan was gone, and probably didn't want to be disturbed anyway. Bulma ran away while he was distracted. The less these people knew about her timeline, the better. Halfway down the stairs, however, she wished for she was back with Bannan and his prying questions.

"Woman, I shall need these washed," the prince ordered, handing her an arm-full of sweaty armor and jumpsuits, today's bloodstained. "After that, dinner. Supplies are in the hold. When that is finished, get to work on that teleporter." He said it casually, as if it were perfectly normal conversation.

"I am not your little slave girl," she laughed. She had forgotten. He was not her Vegeta. She was in fact his little slave girl. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"May I start with dinner, sir?" she sighed. He nodded, smirking.

"At least you've learned your place." That sentence stopped Bulma dead in her tracks. She was resigned to chores, but never to boot-licking. The dirty armor fell to the floor as she glared straight into his pitch black eyes.

"If I stayed in my place earlier, there would be a lot more dead khazan," she pointed out, brandishing her index finger like it was some sort of weapon.

"If you had stayed in your place earlier, we would have been back on the ship in under an hour," he retorted.

"Says the man who went exploring in the khazan houses," she scoffed.

"I didn't go exploring. I... I..." he stammered. He had what... been dragged into a house by a psychic fish-person who was also probably a mad cultist. On the other hand, he was mad cultist who had instructed him to bring the human to the meeting. The human and her ... device... had certainly changed what transpired. If he had gone to the meeting alone, he would simply have killed the leaders of both factions, appointed a new rak chieftain, and threatened everyone in the name of his lord and master. It would have been nearly the same result, but without any improvements for the khazan. He smiled coldly. Yes, the khazans' new conditions would anger Frieza, and better yet, without directly disobeying orders. He would be punished, he was sure. Yet by obeying the orders, he had secured his planet's protection for another day. He then realized that the blue-haired slave was staring at him.

"I thought I saw a hostile," he bluffed, trying to ignore that he had temporarily zoned out.

"Your normal reaction would be to shoot it with a ki blast," she said skeptically.

"Well ki blasts don't leave much information. How do you learn about your attacker if you disintegrate them?" Bulma had to admit he had a point.

"Fine, but I still saved some lives," came the rebuttal.

"Yes, you saved them to labor tirelessly in mines. Good work," he replied, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Think what you like. I'm proud of what I did." She turned her nose up, pouting. The prince snorted.

"Laundry. Get to it, woman," he ordered, though gentler than earlier. She sighed and listened.

* * *

Vegeta laid back on his bed, trying to make sense of the kanassan's words. Frieza wished to destroy Vegeta-sei, his home planet. That didn't surprise him very much. He had been holding it hostage for over a decade anyway. At some point, he would tire of having saiyan warriors under his command, and he would destroy the planet and wipe out anyone who managed to escape. Genocide was a perennial favorite of the maniacal reptilian.

"Your highness," came Bannan's voice over the intercom. "Comm incoming. Lord Frieza's signal. Which screen should I patch it through to?"

"My bedroom," he replied to the ceiling. The cyborg heard, and the ridiculously colored ruler of most of the known universe appeared on the screen.

"Why hello little monkey," it purred, enjoying the look of disgust on the young saiyan's face. "Enjoyed our time on Planet 312, did we?" Vegeta tried his best not to best not to react to Frieza's prodding. The tip of his tail flicked defensively.

"Let's hear your mission report, then," he demanded, eyes narrowed. It was the expression that tipped the prince off. Clearly, the reptilian overlord already knew what happened. It was rumored that he had agents, known as sniffers, who spied on his own people, from warriors to executioners to slaves. Whether or not it was true, Vegeta knew from his own experience that despite his ridiculous appearance, Frieza was cunning and practically omnipotent.

"The khazan rebellion has been put down," he explained concisely. "The rak chieftain Vireo has been dispossessed by his son. The khazan leader and her daughter are also deceased. The new khazan and rak chieftains have formed a tenuous alliance, which now has access to improved energy technology that could drastically improve ore production." He left out the khazan terms. Frieza didn't need to hear them from him.

"Only three deaths, little monkey? Gone soft, have we?" he hissed.

"Actually my lord, we disposed of four rak and two khazan," he corrected.

"Tell me, ape," the ruler of most of the known universe said. "How am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of my subjects if you let them live?" Prince Vegeta bit his tongue. Cheeky answers would not improve the situation, though they would make him feel better.

"Let me put it this way," the cold voice continued. "If I intimidate my personnel, then maybe I stand a chance. If I am not merciful to my own people, then the peasants will wonder what reason I have to show them any compassion. Do you see my point, little prince?" The saiyan twitched at the 'little' comment. Frieza noticed the reaction, and smirked.

"You know what I have to do. Place your hand on the transmitter," he instructed, eyes glowing with delight. Vegeta knew what was coming: the shocks. The very first time Frieza had punished him like this, he had cried out in pain. The reptilian laughed. It was like Christmas for him. The very idea that the accursed lizard tyrant could torture people from an entirely different star system was still nauseating to him, but he had no choice. Obey, or your planet is destroyed. Those were Frieza's terms.

He steeled his jaw and placed his right hand on the red glowing orb beneath the screen. Electricity arced toward his fingertips as they brushed the surface. The charge raced through his arm, across his torso, and down his leg. If felt as if his body was about to rip in half. He was too proud to scream.

When the cool air rushed into his lungs, releasing his bated breath, he heaved a sigh of relief. "My subordinates. Give me their punishment as well," he demanded through clenched teeth. His master would find it amusing that he'd sacrifice himself for his fellow saiyans.

"What a martyr, little monkey," Friez purred. "Be sure to stay conscious." Spots danced before the prince's eyes as electricity crackled through the air.

* * *

While the clothes were drying, Bulma hauled the thawing carcass of some unknown mammal up the stairs between the hold and the kitchen. It was roughly the size of a small cow. When she finally made it to the kitchen, she realized that she had more meat than stove. What was she supposed to do? Wrap it in banana leaves and set it on fire? "Knife, knife," she muttered, searching the kitchen. It was no use. She couldn't find a single piece of cutlery. Even if she could figure out some way to cook this, it would feed one saiyan, maybe satiate two. She would be cooking all night! Luckily, Bannan wandered in searching for a snack. His face brightened when he saw the little human. He had grown rather fond of her since everything that had happened down on Cormorant.

"Where do you keep the knives around here," she sighed in frustration. He simply laughed at the question. Bulma looked at him inquisitively.

"Let's just say the last person to hold your position tried to threaten the prince with one of them. He ordered Nappa to throw them out the airlock."

"I won't stab you," she giggled. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Sorry, I was quite serious," he explained, still chuckling.

"Rats," she swore. "How am I supposed to fit _this_ in a pan?" She gestured at the meat. He pointed at his arm. A small metal tube roughly six inches in length protruded from his index finger.

"Cutting laser," he explained with a wink. "Just tell me where."

* * *

The room was dark and Vegeta found himself face down on the floor. Dammit! He must have blacked out. He was sure it must have gratified the ice-jinn to no end. He tested his fingers. They were a little numb and sluggish, but they would recover. It was then that he noticed Nappa. The older saiyan stood just inside the door, watching him with a disapproving glance.

"We could have taken our portions, prince," he said. No thanks, no gratitude. "Our decisions were our own." Vegeta rolled his eyes. Couldn't he understand that this was for the best?

"You could have, maybe," he said skeptically. He tasted blood. "Cale, Radditz. They're too carefree. Frieza would just love to punish them."

"This getting back at Frieza doesn't help anyone," he started. Vegeta tried to stand, but found himself falling to his knees. Nappa helped him sit on the edge of his bed, despite much protesting.

"Your father ordered me to protect you, your highness," the veteran explained, as if talking to a child.

"I'm not seven anymore Nappa. I can hold my own," he spat. They'd had this conversation many times.

"That doesn't negate the promise I made. How will I explain this to him?"

"Tell him I ordered you not to interfere," Vegeta growled. "Just let me be, Nappa. This is hard enough without a lecture too." Nappa had served too many people to refuse a direct order. He left the room, though the worry stayed. Perhaps it was a pain-induced delusion, or maybe he was simply tired, but as the door closed, Vegeta swore he heard the view screen switch on again. No, he was certain. Its light illuminated the room.

The black robes and gills tipped him off. Another kanassan, another cultist. "Greetings, prince," it said. "Excellent work today." Great. Just what I needed, Vegeta thought as he forced himself to stand.

"Frieza's actions today are further confirmation of his ultimate goal. He will control the universe or decimate it," it continued.

"What do you want with me?" the prince demanded.

"You can prevent both those fates. If you take the path we see, you will save your planet. You will save the universe. You will save your wife and children."

"There you go again. Who says I care?"

"You just suffered your friends' punishment out of the kindness of your heart."

"Cale and Radditz would have screamed and it only would have -" he stopped abruptly. "How did you know about that?"

"We saw it a while ago," the seer admitted. Vegeta stood, mouth agape, eyebrows contorted into a mask of confusion.

"Either way," the kanassan continued. "Frieza will send you to Riparian shortly. Another of my kind will guide you there. Visus is his name. I hope you like water."

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time, when the saiyans dive into a new mission on a new planet, Visus lives up to his name, and Bulma serves dinner. **


	7. Siren Song

**Hi again everyone,**

**Six chapters. Six days. I'm proud of myself. Unfortunately I think that will be ending tomorrow, as I have quite a busy day planned. However, I've been wrong before. So... we'll see. If tomorrow's chapter isn't out by about noon Eastern time, it probably won't be out at all.**

**I've always been a huge fan of Greek mythology, so this planet relies heavily on Greek myths for ideas and for names. Well, this whole planet does. **

**As always, reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated. Send me a PM if you see any typos. I've already updated every chapter at least once to fix minor mistakes people have told me about. So thank you for those who've helped. Keep at it!**

**I really appreciate those of you who have been keeping up with this story. 1,500 views in six days! I'm having so much fun doing this, and I really hope you are too.**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 7: Siren Song

Bannan was easy to feed. He gratefully took whatever the blue-haired slave was willing to give him. Nappa ate a few plates himself, though he looked worried. She enticed Radditz into taking two plates. One he ate, maintaining a watch on Cale's door. Bulma knew that if anyone could talk the distraught saiyan into eating, it would be Radditz. She left some extra dinner with him, just in case. Aside from Cale, Vegeta was the only saiyan who had not been lured to the kitchen by the smell of roasting meat. Bulma wasn't quite sure how to handle him, but she knew how much he ate in her timeline and how much the other saiyans ate in this one. He would be starving. She grabbed as much food as she could carry and knocked on his door. Luckily, it slid open for her.

Inside the dark room, laying face down on the bed, was Prince Vegeta. His breathing was slow. Perhaps he was asleep, she thought. She laid the food down as quietly as she could and tried to back out of the room. Tried was the operative word; she bumbled into a chair. The prince turned his head to stare at her.

"Woman?" he asked, confused. "How did you get in here?" She shrugged.

"The door let me in," she answered. "Want some dinner?"

"Remind me to have Bannan fix the door," the prince muttered. "Food sounds absolutely repulsive right now." His breath came in ragged heaves, and he clutched his chest.

"You demanded that I cook," she said incredulously.

"Well that was before..." His voice trailed off.

"Before?" she asked, prompting him to continue.

"Just drop it, woman," he demanded, clearly frustrated. She decided it was probably best to take his advice. That was when she saw his hand. Veins bulged from the his palm and the skin was covered in a myriad of burns.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he spat.

"Nothing my ass," she said. "Tell me you people have medical supplies around here." He looked incredulously at her. Injury wasn't that normal for a saiyan. They were a proud warrior race, unused to losing, or even to enemies putting up a realistic fight. Medical supplies were unnecessary.

"Fine. I'll make do," she muttered, storming into the hallway and right into Nappa.

"Vegeta has been badly burned, and I'm not sure how. Get me some cold water and something I can make into a bandage," she demanded. Nappa nodded and ran down the hallway. A few short minutes later, he brought a bucket of water and a few beat-up jumpsuits. She made the stubborn prince put his hand in the water as she ripped the jumpsuits to shreds.

"Now, if this is the entry wound, where is the exit?" she asked him. He raised an eyebrow.

"These wounds don't look like you touched something hot. You look like you were electrocuted, which means a current passed through your body and came out somewhere." He rolled his eyes and pointed to his left foot, which Bulma promptly placed in the cold water as well. After a few minutes of cooling the wounds, she wrapped strips of the jumpsuit around them.

"Eat your dinner. I'll come back and check on you in an hour," she explained, using the tone of voice one might with a small frightened child. She was kind, but also not to be crossed. She and Nappa left the prince alone, but Bulma wasn't finished here.

"Nappa," she called, as they left the room. "A word."

"Yes?" he responded hesitantly.

"You didn't look surprised. You knew about this before I did." It wasn't a question. It was a definitive statement of fact.

"Yes," he admitted, resigned.

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"His orders," he explained.

"You know, sometimes commanders give stupid orders that get their people killed. Vegeta, on the other hand, gives orders that might get himself killed." It was true, Nappa knew. "Don't blindly follow his orders," she warned.

"Comm link from Zarbon," Bannan's voice boomed over the intercom. "Patching it into the common room. Nappa joined Bannan there, as did Radditz. Bulma listened from around the corner. She was still terrified that Zarbon would remember her and demand that the saiyans return her to his care.

"Only three of you," the green alien scoffed. "Your whole ship should be here."

"The others are..." Nappa hesitated. "Sleeping."

"Sure they are," Zarbon replied knowingly. "Irrelevant. I have a new mission from Lord Frieza for you." A picture of a blue planet appeared on the screen. "Planet 434, known to the natives as Riparian. You are to capture these three," he continued, as the pictures appeared on the view screen. "When you have done so, your ship will rendezvous with mine and I'll ship the prisoners off to our master." Radditz sighed. He hated taking prisoners. "You know the drill. Fail and your planet is gone."

Bulma was confused by the last remark. Fail and your planet is gone. Wasn't the saiyan home world already gone? Hadn't Frieza destroyed it long ago? Then it dawned on her. Different timeline, different events. Vegeta-sei still existed here, and so did the saiyan race. That's why Cale and Bannan existed, when she had never heard of them before. That's why they all unquestioningly obeyed Frieza. Bannan waved her into the room. Zarbon had ended the comm.

"Alright everyone, here is what we know," Bannan explained. "Three main intelligent species call this planet home: Syreni, Piscis, and Vox. The syreni are half fish, half humanoid. Actually Bulma, here, may have heard of them."

"Really?" she asked, fascinated.

"They visited Earth for a few hundred years. Your people called them 'mermaids'. Then there are the piscis. They're quite similar, originally the same species as the syreni. If the syreni are part fish, the piscis are part other sea creatures. You'll run into piscis with eight arms or with gills or with eyes on both sides of their heads. The only universal qualities they have are their language and the fact that they can breathe underwater. I suppose it is incorrect to call them a species. They're really a collection of hybrids. The last species are the vox, the ones Frieza wants us to capture. As of now, there are only three in existence, sisters as a matter of fact. They're the last of their kind, and Lord Frieza has plans for them."

With Vegeta out of commission, Bannan stepped up as his second-in-command. The planet was only a short distance away, so he set the coordinates and put the ship on auto-pilot. "Nappa, Radditz, we're going down to the surface. Three of us, three of them." He tossed his headset to Bulma as they went upstairs to the armory. "Keep us posted, girl. And do watch out for Cale and the prince." The saiyans equipped themselves with wetsuits and light armor over the top. They also grabbed helmets. Bulma studied one of the remaining ones with care. Not only did they contain elaborate ventilation systems, but they also had built-in comm links and earpieces. They could communicate with the ship and better yet, show those left on board what was happening.

Bannan led the others down to the bottom deck to launch the pods. He quickly showed the slave girl how to launch the pods as they watched Riparian come into sight. When Bannan was satisfied that she knew which buttons to press, he let Nappa pull her aside. "Watch out for the prince. Don't let him do anything foolish." He made her promise. Radditz too, had a message for her. "Remember that khazan girl on Cormorant? Cale is still upset that she died. If she comes out of her room, give her an earpiece and tell her to call me."

The cyborg had a miserable look as he strapped himself into his pod. "I hate water. It makes me feel like I've lost my arm, all over again," he growled, clicking in the last strap. Bulma couldn't help but smile. The old, reliable saiyan would be fine. She just knew it. When the auto-pilot dropped them into orbit, she launched the pods, smiling and waving as they disappeared into the atmosphere.

Bulma heard a collective gasp as the three pods plunged below the waves. Nappa flicked on his comm link. There was a whole nation down here. Where the rak and khazan had lived in isolated towns on Cormorant, the denizens of Riparian covered the entire ocean floor as far as the eye could see. Three fish-tailed shapes swam out of the nearest building and towards the pods. The comm linked flickered out as they sank deeper beneath the waves. The audio was a little garbled, but still functional.

"Hello beautiful," she heard Nappa whisper, followed by an opening sound and the rush of water.

"Nappa?" she called. "Tell me you turned your ventilation system on."

"Hm, oh! Yeah. I'm fine," he replied, clearly distracted.

"Greetings traveller," came a silvery voice. "I am Acequia. Welcome to Hestia." Then in near unison came two more voices. "Greetings traveller," they said. "I am Estuary. Welcome to Hestia." The other voice differed only once. Her name was Levee, not Estuary. "Follow us into the city," all three said together.

Radditz, Bannan, and Nappa broke free of their pods, leaving them to sink to the bottom. Bulma wondered if perhaps they might land on something in the city below, but the syreni didn't mention it.

"Tell me what you wish to see," the three voices prompted together. "One of my sisters shall take you."

"Sisters?" Nappa asked. "So there are more of you?" Bulma could not see the syren's reaction, but she assumed it nodded, for Nappa's response was, "Sweet! Can I meet them?"

Radditz, on the other hand, waited for Bannan's command. "Tell me of the vox," he requested.

"The vox?" a syren replied. "There are no vox here."

"That wasn't my question," Bannan pressed.

"There are no vox here. Mother said so."

"Then take me to your mother," Bannan demanded. "I would like a word with her." Radditz's comm screen connection reestablished itself for a few seconds. Bulma saw the beauty of the underwater city, stretching as far as she could see. She also noticed that Radditz had followed Bannan and two syreni. The cyborg was right. They were mermaids. Both had silvery fish tails protruding from under long, flowing hair. The red-headed one took Bannan by the hand and led him downward to the city. The second one, with a black braid intertwined with a pink ribbon, took Radditz's hand and did the same. It couldn't be. She rushed to Cale's room, just to check.

"Cale?" she called, banging on the door. "Cale!" A loud thunk on the door led her to guess that Cale was still inside, and throwing things at her door again. "You've got to see this. I won't take no for an answer." It took several minutes for the saiyan to make it to the door. She probably only got out of bed because she decided Bulma wouldn't leave until she did. The blue-haired girl led Cale to the bridge's view screen. Luckily, Radditz's comm link was still active. Radditz focused on the mermaid-like alien, who turned back to glance at him. It was as if Cale had a twin sister who had somehow become part fish. The syren, down to the tiniest detail, was Cale above the waist.

It made no sense. Bulma couldn't figure it out. She took a second look at the syren with Bannan. She didn't recognize her, and with red hair, she certainly wasn't a saiyan-fish... thing.

"Nappa," she called. "Turn on your comm link for me."

"Who are you? And why are you in my head?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Bulma responded, very confused.

"Why are you talking inside my helmet? Who are you?" Nappa insisted.

"It's me Nappa, Bulma. The slave girl. The one you asked to watch over Prince Vegeta while you were gone."

"I've never heard of you in my life," he spat. "This conversation is over."

"Nappa!" she called again, trying to say, something, anything to make him understand. There was only radio silence.

"Radditz," she tried.

"Hm? What? Oh..." he stuttered. It seemed like he had forgotten about his earpiece.

"You told me to have Cale talk to you when she came out of her room. She's here."

"Cale? What's that?" he asked. He sounded as confused as Bulma was.

"Cale? She's Cale! Looks just like the syren in front of you."

"The syren. Oh! You mean Levee. No. Her name's not Cale," he replied.

"Of course she's not Cale," a third voice chimed in. "I am."

"I swear, you idiotic monkey, I am getting you off that planet and away from that slut. I don't care if you remember who I am. I will make you remember," she declared. Bulma saw the determination in the saiyan's eyes. She was not to be crossed. The blue-haired girl left her to gather her supplies.

"Bannan," she tried. Sure Radditz and Nappa were gone. Something about Bannan, though, told her he was fine.

"Come on you robot! Answer!" she demanded.

"No need for names, little one," he answered back. "Dammit," he muttered softly.

"What's wrong?"

"I told you earlier. My arm doesn't mix well with water. It keeps shocking me and shorting out. Quite painful, really."

"Maybe that's why you still remember us then..." Bulma mused.

"Remember you? Why wouldn't I?"

"Nappa and Radditz don't remember me. They were very confused when I tried to talk to them. Radditz doesn't even remember Cale. She's furious, and about to fly your way. Heads up."

"Thanks for the warning. An angry Cale can beat just about any of us. I don't want to be on the receiving end of that."

"Don't trust anyone," she warned and cut the comm link.

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time when Cale's rage breaks, Bannan confronts the mysterious syreni 'mother', and Radditz's memory is returned... by force. (Also... the cult of Bardock will be in next chapter, not this one like I mistakenly wrote last chapter. My bad.)**


	8. Children of Tethys

**Hi everyone,**

**It's a short chapter. I know. I figured short was better than nothing at all. There's a dirty joke in there somewhere...**

**Anyway, 7 for 7!**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 8: Children of Tethys

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Bulma quoted to herself as she deployed Cale's pod. Possessed or forgetful or out of his mind, Radditz was in for a shock. She rushed back to the bridge as soon as the pod detached; if anyone needed her, she would be there. Apparently, so would Vegeta. He was waiting for her by the view screen with a look of extreme annoyance on his face.

"Where are we?" he demanded.

"Planet 434, Riparian. A whole planet of oceans," she explained concisely.

"Where is everyone else?" was his next question.

"Planet side."

"Without me."

"You were asleep and recovering from your wounds," she defended.

"I command this unit. Me!" he growled, asserting his alpha male role.

"Yes, but Bannan had things under control," she explained, backing up a few steps. He pointed to the view screens. It was divided into quarters with all four saiyan comm links active.

"This is what you call under control?" he asked incredulously. "Two of my men are mesmerized by under-dressed fish women. The other is being electrocuted by a mechanical arm which isn't meant for combat and certainly shouldn't be under water. The daft woman knew the dangerous situation and rushed in anyway, and is probably flying toward her own death. Under control, you said?"

"Listen up woman," he continued. "I am going to grab my gear and get in a pod. You will launch it, and you will -" Bulma never learned what she would do. The view screen went black. Two dark eyes opened, lighting the room again. Then the voice started.

"Greetings young prince, Earthling," it said. "I am Visus. You were warned of my presence." Bulma stared agape at the screen. She hadn't 'been warned of his presence' or whatever. Vegeta simply looked annoyed.

"What is it with you people?" he spat. "I don't need your help."

"So you know about Tethys then, do you?" it asked. Bulma shook her head. The prince massaged his temples, frustrated. The eyes narrowed, but not threateningly. If they could see the cultist's mouth, Bulma thought it would be smiling.

"The denizens of Riparian call her Mother," Visus continued.

"Mother! A syreni named Estuary is guiding Bannan to her as we speak."

"But child," the cultist cautioned. "Tethys is already with him." The eyes closed and the screen went dark again. After a moment, the comms flickered on, and it was as though the cultist hadn't been there.

"Bannan!" Bulma called into her headset. "Bannan, are you there?"

"Yes little human. I am here," he replied calmly. "Why so excited?"

"Tethys. Mother. She's already with you." The cyborg looked around.

"I see Radditz and the syreni, no one else."

"But the eyes..." she muttered. Vegeta yanked the headset off.

"It's a riddle," he informed Bannan. "She means that this mother person is the ocean, the whole ocean. The syreni are tricking you."

Even though the water softened the blow, Cale's kick still cracked the glass on Radditz's helmet. Bannan flinched theatrically, laughing.

"What was that for, you crazy woman?" he demanded.

"Following the half-naked fish. I'm surprised you haven't drowned in your own drool yet," she growled.

"What fish thing?" he asked. His eyes dilated in fear. "Cale! Behind you!"

"You remembered my name," she said, smiling, as she aimed a kick behind her.

"How could I forget you?" he asked sweetly, wrapping one hand around her waist and firing a ki blast at the attacking creature with the other. The creature was similar to a syreni, but with a few key differences. The fingernails were instead claws, eight inches long and very sharp-looking. Her canine teeth gave her a remarkable resemblance to a saber-tooth tiger. Where the syreni were silvery, the attacking beast was red. Her skin was a deep red, and her eyes the unsettling eyes of an albino. Bannan glanced around. The two syreni guides had vanished, and the creature going for Cale's throat had a friend. Coincidence? He thought not. Cale twined her fingers in Radditz's hair, kissing him passionately as they both shot lazy ki blasts toward the second creature.

"No more missions without me, okay?" she teased. "You can't forget me if I'm right here, fighting next to you."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a wink. Bannan cleared his throat.

"If you two are done..." he laughed, reminding them of his presence.

"Sorry Ban," Radditz apologized.

"I really wish you two had a little more self control. You blasted these things to smithereens," he said, poking a reddish corpse.

"I'm in one of those moods," Cale joked.

"This is serious," Bannan shot, face contorted with worry. "I'm fairly sure these creatures are the syreni. If that's the case, then they have Nappa."

"Look at the hair," Radditz said soberly. Cale prodded the nearest one, the one that could have been her twin. It was her hair, down to the smallest split end. It was the same hair the syreni called Levee had. No question. The syreni had transformed once they learned their ruse was discovered.

"That's what you get, slut," she said growled, shoving the floating corpse away.

"It's a shame, really," Bannan muttered. "I always liked redheads."

"Well then," Bannan continued, confident in his assessment. "Nappa is in a world of trouble. Let's go save our friend."

* * *

Seleri... Nappa thought. It couldn't be. She died years ago in childbirth. Yet here she was as an underwater dream.

"I'm not mad," he started, trying to formulate his apology. He had been wrong, and he knew it, but not until it was too late. "You loved him. I was just jealous."

Seleri... no Acequia's eyes stared at him blankly.

"It is okay," she laughed. "Come meet my sisters." It wasn't like her to simply accept an apology. He thought she would hold it over his head like she usually did. That girl could hold a grudge for weeks. As for these sisters, he knew she was an only child. Women were rare enough among saiyan children. More than one in the same family was a thousand-year occurrence. He gathered, then, that she must mean others like her. The other syreni, the other dead.

"How... how are you here?" he stammered.

"Mother found me. Mother loves her children," came the well-rehearsed answer.

"I knew your mother. She was a spiteful hag. You said so."

"Mother is kind!" it hissed, skin deepening to red. "Mother loves her children!"

"Okay, okay," Nappa replied. Anything to rid her of that demonic appearance, anything to see his Seleri's face again.

"This Mother, person... thing. You don't mean you biological mother. You're not talking about the saiyan who gave birth to you," he pondered.

"Tethys is my mother now. Mother loves her children," the fish bearing Seleri's image said.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure she's very nice."

"Seleri..." he whispered. "What about your son? Are you going to see him?"

"I have no child. Only Mother is a mother. Mother loves her children," the mermaid said, head cocked to the side. It appeared to be genuinely confused, as though it never realized it was capable of reproducing.

"Hope your sisters are smarter than you," Nappa muttered under his breath.

Back in his normal tone of voice, he continued. "Sel, what about your husband? He misses you so much."

"I have no husband. Men are evil. Mother protects me from them. Mother loves her children!"

"You called Vegeta a host of names, but never evil. You loved him, Sel. And you and me... we were friends. I'm not evil! What happened to you?"

"You are male. You are evil. Mother will protect me from you."

"I know I made you mad. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just couldn't believe you picked him over me. He was king, but I thought that wouldn't matter to you!" The syren began to wail, a horrible keening noise.

"Sister!" it burbled. "Oh sister." Nappa grabbed her face, gently.

"Sel! What happened? Are you okay?" he demanded. As he stared into her eyes, their beautiful jet blossomed into crimson. The nails on the hands he held grew. Her pained smile morphed into a demonic grin.

"Piscis, defend Mother! Her children have been attacked!" the mutated syreni shrieked.

"Arise Natan, Balena! Arise Delphine and Lutra! Mother's children are dying!"it cried. Nappa hugged the reddish monster to his chest. Whatever little bit of Seleri was still in there was in pain, so much pain. Fatigued, the demon slumped, dead weight. Her features returned to their calmer state. Nappa held his precious Seleri again. What she had done, however, he had no clue.

* * *

"Nappa's comm link! It's working again!" Bulma relayed to the underwater saiyans. "Acequia, the other syreni. She knows you killed her sisters. She transformed and called to something..." The genius wracked her brain. "The... the piscis! She sent the piscis after you."

"Just what we need," Radditz groaned. "As if we didn't have enough fish freaks to deal with."

"What do you think, sushi for dinner?" Cale grinned menacingly.

"One more thing," Bulma added. "He thinks the syreni is someone named Seleri."

"Mother?" Vegeta whispered incredulously.

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time, when Seleri's past is revealed, Tethys defends her children, and the vox make their appearance.**

**I really wanted Cale and Radditz to be cute, since when Vegeta and Bulma get together later (which will happen... in the eventual sense), there is some contrast. Their relationship is 90% bickering, which some people like me think is adorable, but it's certainly not typical.**

**To alleviate any confusion, the syreni transform into the appearance of a man's dream woman. That's why Levee looked like Cale and why Acequia looks like Queen Seleri. I'll make that clearer when I go back and edit. If anyone knows anything about Vegeta's mother, I couldn't find anything. This led me to believe that she wasn't mentioned in the series by name. Let me know if I'm wrong. **

**For those of you interested, Queen Seleri's name is a misspelling of celery. Yep... that was the best I could come up with.**


	9. Don't Tell Vegeta

**Hi everyone,**

**Eight chapters in eight days! I think the streak will break tomorrow. Busy day. Of course that's probably the third time I say that. We shall see what happens. **

**Thank you for all the reviews. These last two days have been chock-full of compliments. I'm glad you like it :)**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 9: Don't Tell Vegeta

"Impossible," Vegeta spat. "You're dead." The silvery syreni ignored him; she only had eyes for Nappa. It mattered not, he tried to assure himself. His mother was gone. Table's birth had been too much for her. Besides, this was only a copy created by Tethys to stop them from finding the vox.

"Bannan," he ordered. "Take the others and go find Nappa. Get to the pods. We'll regroup up here."

"I love to sir," the cyborg started, "but there's a problem." His comm began to move. It panned to reveal a horde of furious piscis.

"Prince, perhaps we had better leave Nappa for a while," Radditz suggested.

"He does sound happy with his syreni," Cale chimed in.

"Dammit!" Vegeta swore. "We are coming back for him. Understood?"

* * *

Argden... Nappa remembered. This was Argden, capitol of the Tuffle empire, the garden oasis of Planet Plant. As much as he hated the tuffle cowards, he had to admit that their capitol was like walking into a dream. He wished he had time to wander, but he saw Ambassador Shitaki shuffling toward him. The man was long-winded and full of ideas of a 'peaceful utopia'. Nappa glanced upward, wishing for the full moon. He would dearly love to knock some sense into the foolish ambassador, particularly in giant monkey form. He had promised Vegeta that he would be on his best behavior, and one doesn't break promises to the king and expect to live, even if the king is an old friend. So, he took a deep breath and braced himself for the unpleasant, one-sided conversation approaching. It never came.

A delicate, yet capable woman smiled at him from across the courtyard. Seleri! His heart leapt as she winked at him and gave him a little wave, an indicator to run. She embraced the ambassador genially and engaged him in conversation.

* * *

Variations of 'yes, sir' were heard as the saiyans dived for their abandoned pods. Now saiyans, while perfectly capable of swimming, come from a planet of mostly deserts and badlands. They could swim and dive, but not like an army of sea creatures. Bannan hollered as an octopus piscid entwined a reaching arm around his foot. He reached back and punched the suckered tentacle with his mechanical arm. The electric current that kept shocking the cyborg was unleashed upon the octopus, who screeched and let go.

It wasn't just the piscis army. The creatures of the deep rose to aid their brethren. A school of sardines attempted to bar the saiyans' way. A swarm of jellyfish surrounded Cale, stinging her hands, the only uncovered skin she had. A shark and a shark piscid tag-teamed Radditz, who blocked their serrated teeth by deftly keeping his limbs perpendicular to the clashing jaws. It only worked for so long. The shark clenched around his forearm, spilling blood into the water. The creatures went crazy at the scent of blood. It was a feeding frenzy. Cale was not immune to the effects either; it was her mate's blood. She ignored the jellyfish, despite heavily swollen and lacerated hands, firing ki blast at the oncoming wave of attackers.

"Don't stop!" Vegeta hollered into the headset. "Make it to the pods!" They obeyed; he was right. Bannan was the first to notice the increasing pressure. His mechanical arm began to warp, squeezing the artificial nerve endings and causing him to gasp in pain. The others noticed as his breathing became labored and the horde began to gain on him. Ears popped as the pressure continued to rise. Bulma began to worry that they would be crushed long before the fish-people reached them. The glass on Radditz's helmet cracked, and Cales' followed shortly. The pods were in reach. Radditz kicked the door open, dragging Bannan, now unconscious, in with him. Cale shot a final ki blast, clearing room for her door. All three were safely inside their pods, but so was the water. Radditz sucked in one last breath.

"Come on, you useless hunk of junk," Cale muttered, as she forced her pod to rise. If they could make it to the surface, through the furious piscis and free from the wrath of Tethys, they could drain the water from the pods and helmets and get back to the ship. The cracks in the helmets gave way with a final crunch, and Bulma and Vegeta heard the rush of water. Their friends were drowning. The surface was still far away when the comm links twinkled out. They weren't water proof. The light increased as the two pods struggled upwards. The earpieces died as the helmets filled completely.

* * *

"Thanks for the save back there, Sel," Nappa laughed, gratefully.

"Anything for you, Ambassador," she teased back. She knew he hated being an ambassador. Nappa had joined the ambassadorial team because King Vegeta was an old friend. He would have been much happier leading the border defenses or training young saiyans in the ways of combat. Nappa and the king had fought together against the desert animals and rival tribes many a time. Both were experienced warriors and inexperienced politicians. In fact, they both hated and distrusted politicians. When contact was made with the tuffles and an ambassador was needed, the king would trust no one else with the position. Nappa accepted for his friend, but also for Seleri. She had been promised to Vegeta practically since birth, but had never shown any real romantic interest in the future king. They were friends of course, but nothing more. Nappa knew that it would destroy what he had with the king, but he still hoped that Seleri would throw caution to the wind and choose him. She just wasn't that kind of girl.

"How's the mate?" he asked.

"Veggie is fine," she giggled. The king would be furious if he knew anyone called him 'Veggie'. Nappa chuckled appreciatively. It was their inside joke. "He's a little grumpy that the tuffles are so reluctant to share their technology. I can't blame them though."

"Terrible strategy," he nodded. "If your enemies are physically stronger than you, beat them with tech."

"Yes, well hopefully this won't come to war," she prayed. The tuffles generally saw the saiyans as invaders, although they inhabited areas of the planet that the other species couldn't.

"And of course there are the rumors," Seleri continued in a hushed voice. "The slave trade."

"So it's true then?" Nappa asked. "The cowards are enslaving us?"

"Only one rogue one," Seleri responded. "We can't condemn them all for the actions of one."

"No, but one tuffle could poison the minds of many. Make them all think we are less than them."

"Keep your pride in check, Nappa," Seleri cautioned.

"Sorry, my lady," he replied apologetically.

"You have a point though," she amended.

"So now what?" he asked. "Do we keep negotiating, or do we wait for a full moon?"

"Neither," she said with a mischievous smile. "You and me, Nappa. We're going to find them. We'll free the slaves and demand that their captor be put to trial."

"Tonight then," he said, a grin stretching across his face.

"Tonight," she agreed. "Let's not get caught."

* * *

Cale broke the surface and kicked her pod's door open, gasping for air as the water flowed back into mother ocean. She looked around in panic, but Radditz and Bannan's pod surfaced a few feet away. The female saiyan helped them get the door open. Radditz stuck his head under the water, long hair obscuring his vision as if flowed about his face (That was for you KimiruMai).The piscis were nowhere to be seen. His coarse black mane trailed behind him as he floated on his back, sighing in relief. They were safe for now.

When the two pods docked with the saiyan ship, Bulma rushed to hug each of them. Even Vegeta gave an uncharacteristic smile. They were safe for now, well... except for Nappa. A quick check of his comm link showed he escaped the dangers of piscis. They swam harmlessly around him as the syreni Acequia dragged him onward. His eyelids were closed and he kicked feebly. Bulma guessed he was in a deeper state of trance than Radditz had been before Cale rescued him.

Prince Vegeta was back to business. "Listen up," he called, forcing the ship's population to look at him. "If you were a crazed ocean, where would you keep something you wanted to hide?"

"At the bottom," Cale mused. "But that's no use. The pressure would kill us."

"Some secret underwater cave," was Radditz's thought. Bulma took the longest to answer.

"On dry land," she said carefully. "Who would think to look there?" Vegeta pointed at her, eyes flashing.

"Exactly!" he remarked. "Anyone searching for the vox looks in the water and is led astray by the syreni, disguised as their perfect woman. Your presence threw them off, Cale."

"Aren't the vox aquatic?" Bannan asked.

"Check the file," Vegeta ordered, wearing a villainous smile. "I'll save you the trouble. There's no data on it. Ladies, gentlemen. We are looking for an island."

* * *

Nappa met Seleri on the roof of the embassy. The mounted turrets were making him feel uneasy. Things would go badly for their race if they were caught. The future queen took his hand. He tried to subdue a blush. She was his friend's girl. She was the king's girl. He should make her stop this foolish raid, but the roguish part of him was having way too much fun. Stealthily, they flew down to the ground in the shadow of the building. From there it was a short sprint across a street and down a dark alley. It wasn't difficult for them to cross town. The queen led him behind a building to a pair of twin hatches leading into the ground below.

"My sources said they are being held in here," she whispered. He nodded, keeping noise to a minimum. They each took a hatch and hefted them open. They shouldn't have worried about noise. The tuffles were warned of their approach. A dozen tuffles, armed with plasma weapons, opened fire on the two stunned saiyans. Seleri reached into her pocket, pulling out a handful of dust. She blew it gently from her fingertips toward the attacking aliens. Their weapons ceased firing.

"Police grade polaron powder," she explained, both to the tuffles and her fellow ambassador. "Your plasma weapons are no longer functional."

"That is a controlled substance!" a tuffle at the front shouted. "Contraband! We can't let you go." He must have been in charge, for the twelve tuffles charged at them, small knives drawn.

"Try not to kill them, Nappa," Seleri warned. He did try, though it was difficult being outnumbered six to one. One tuffle split his head on the corner of a table. He would not survive. The other eleven were shortly unconscious. Seleri checked their pulses and bandaged their wounds. Nappa, meanwhile, searched for the slaves. It didn't take him long. They were in the next room, a laboratory, and they were not as lucky as the tuffle ambushers.

"A new test subject, how wonderful" a voice sneered. Nappa cracked his knuckles. This scientist was presumably the one who had violently studied his kin. He would see how 'wonderful' it would be when this 'test subject' got a hold of him. A tiny tuffle in a giant mechanical suit stepped into the light. "I am Doctor Malus Sylvestris," it explained. "And I will be dissecting you today." Scientists were one thing. Mechanical scientists brandishing buzz saws were another entirely.

"Sel!" he hollered into the other room. "Company!" The metallic doors clanged closed behind him. He could hear her clawing at them from the far side.

"Foolish monkeys," the doctor laughed. "I designed those doors specifically to keep your kind in." He charged at Nappa, mechanical weapons roaring. The suit was fast, but Nappa was faster. He climbed up into the rafters with the dexterity of his primate ancestors. Doctor Sylvestris couldn't reach him, but he had more than melee weaponry. Guns sprouted from his shoulders, spouting flame. Nappa leaped from beam to beam just barely ahead of the doctor's attacks. The beams themselves were not so agile. They blossomed into flame. The saiyan began to run out of options as more of the rafters joined the blaze and collapsed to the laboratory floor below. The one he stood on gave way, and he fell into the waiting arms of Doctor Sylvestris. The suit pinned him to the floor with one oversized foot. Seleri had ceased her attacks on the door. She was a saiyan whose prowess in battle was due to brains, not brawn. The future queen launched herself through the wall, weakened by the fire. Destroying his lab had allowed the doctor to capture Nappa. He had nothing else to destroy when he was faced with a furious woman. She pounced on the robotic suit's head, ripping the hatch open and pulling the helpless doctor out. With no pilot, the suit stood inert. She carelessly tossed the doctor into the flames. "You did this to yourself," she spat, kicking the suit off of Nappa. Seleri carried her friend from the burning building. The doctor had no such luck.

"Thanks, Sel," he laughed, breathing labored. For a minute, it didn't matter who she was betrothed to, where they were, or the deaths they had just witnessed.

"I thought you were dead," she sobbed. Then it happened. She seized his lips in a furious kiss, and he kissed her right back. "Don't tell Vegeta," she whispered in his ear.

* * *

Nappa spluttered and coughed. His helmet was gone. He was far from Argden and Vegeta-sei. He was miles beneath the waves on Planet Riparian, and that was not Seleri. He stared at the syren in shock. She blushed bright red. The saiyan looked around in a panic, hoping for some source of air. All he saw was his helmet sinking into the briny deep as spots began to dance before his eyes. The syren took his hands and kissed him again, gently. He felt better; the spots retreated. Gills fluttered on the sides of her neck. Of course! She was saving him. The syren pulled him toward the surface as they kissed. After several long minutes, he broke the surface. A rocky island was just a short swim away. The syren floated below, careful to stay submerged. She beckoned him back under the water. He took a deep breath and stuck his head back below.

"Mother protects her children from evil. Perhaps you are not so evil," she smiled. "My sisters are on that island. Do not listen to them. Their songs are lies."

"Thank you," he burbled, forgetting his helmet was gone. He gasped and choked as the water poured into his lungs. He reached up for the air, taking a moment to regain composure. With his head safely above the salty water, he continued. "Thank you, Acequia, for letting me see her again." She smiled back sadly.

"Thank you for letting me into your mind, but it is time for us to part. I know why you are here. Take my sisters and go."

Nappa felt his heart break. The little syren had seen that he wasn't a heartless monster, but Frieza was. The vox would suffer terribly at his hands, but Nappa forced himself to swim away. The vox were the price he would have to pay for his planet's safety.

Searching for the only island on a water planet was about as difficult as searching for a glow stick in the dark. It took mere minutes.

"I don't believe it," gasped Bulma. Nappa waved happily from the shore.

"It might be a trap," Vegeta cautioned. "Doesn't matter. We've got to get him and the vox." He tossed Bannan's headset to Radditz. "You're staying on board."

"Cale, Bannan, time for fishing," he finished with a smirk.

The pods landed on dry land for a change, and Nappa rushed over to greet them, fingers in his ears. "Don't listen to the song," he shouted. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

"What song?" he demanded. Cale and Bannan didn't seem to hear it either. Then the haunting melody began to flow over the waves...

* * *

**Doctor Malus Sylvestris comes from binomial nomenclature. It's the scientific name for crabapples. Argden is an anagram of 'garden'. **

**Stay tuned for the conclusion of Planet Riparian.**


	10. Mother's Love

**Hi everyone!**

**First of all, I apologize for not posting yesterday, but migraines are not conducive to anything, let alone something like writing which requires thought. **

**On a happier note, I now have 10 chapters for a story I never planned on writing. I'm celebrating with liberal amounts of booze and thank yous.**

**Let's start this party by thanking the people who review early and often: KimiruMai, LunarSinner, EgyLynx, lintu-lvr4, NNP, Poopalicious (who only reviewed once, but it was awesome enough for like 7 reviews) and everyone else who reviewed. Thank you as well to everyone who favorited and followed. **

**So here's my thank you present to all of you. I know how the story ends! The bad news is that it's a ways a way, but the good news is that means more chapters! At least three more planets to go, and probably more. **

**Thank you for the support everyone! Here's to 10 more chapters (maybe in 10 more days). **

**Here it is: the finale of Riparian!**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 10: Mother's Love

The melody was soft, gentle and alluring. It was something a mother would sing to their child, yet something men would hum as the marched to war. It was happy and sad, major and minor, simple yet complex. It was a love song and a dirge, and an intimate serenade. Vegeta, Cale, and Bannan followed every last note, a blissful smile creeping onto their faces.

The oceans just minutes ago were roiling with Tethys' rage, but now a deadly calm flattened their surface. Vegeta took a closer look at the island. From the ship it had looked rocky and cold, a windy shelterless island jutting from the seas. He could see now how wrong his assessment was. The island was small and green, starred with flowers. Frankly, it was beautiful. Three glowing figures danced in time to the music. Vegeta wondered what they were. He had to get closer.

The prince reached out his hand and touched the nearest wispy figure. Her piercing blue eyes stared into his, surprised but pleased by the touch. The nearest one played a lyre, strumming contentedly as her voice formed a trio with her sisters'. She beckoned with her head; she meant for him to follow her. The song reminded Vegeta of home, yet of all the places he had seen. It was like they were singing to him specifically, like they understood what he had been through. If the syreni appealed to the flesh, then the vox appealed to the heart. He followed her faithfully.

The vox, for vox she must be, danced in front of the saiyan, leading him away as she sang and played. His comrades lagged behind, enthralled by the other two vox. Nappa had his eyes shut and his ears plugged. Vegeta couldn't understand why. What was the harm in a little music? The dainty songstress and her lyre guided him across the meadow and through the flowers to the far side of the tiny island. She then continued the dance from the soft beach onto the surface of the water. It seemed effortless for her to walk upon the waves. If it were so simple, Vegeta decided he could do it too. Unfortunately, the world simply doesn't work that way.

The prince stepped out onto the water, positive it would hold his weight. Naturally his battle-seasoned body was too heavy for the surface's natural tension, and he plunged into the briny ocean. He choked and spluttered as water filled his lungs. Somehow, the saiyan managed to right himself and sneak a breath between the waves that crashed over him. The vox gestured downward. Swim down, swim to the bottom, her song seemed to say. Vegeta couldn't find it in himself to resist. He had to admit, he was curious. The prince had seen so many worlds in his travels, but never one quite like this. He wanted to see the aquatic world hidden away beneath the waves, and so he listened to the song and stopped fighting. The ocean seemed to want it too. The currents wrapped themselves securely around the sinking saiyan, pulling him down to the floor.

* * *

The eyes bored into Bulma as they took over the view screen again.

"Visus," she whispered in recognition. She would have to learn how he was able to overwhelm the ship's technology, but she repressed her curiosity. The cultists didn't visit without reason.

"It is time for you to act," he said knowingly. "Take a pod, and go down to the planet."

"I can't even fly one," she protested.

"Your words today will save the prince. He will save the universe."

"How?" the blue-haired time traveller asked. "What am I supposed to say? Why can't Cale or Nappa say it?"

"You will understand when you see her," it explained patiently. "Go quickly."

The eyes vanished, and Bulma's mind was made up. She was going to fly.

* * *

A tug on the prince's wrist interrupted his descent. It was a syren, and she seemed terrified. It didn't appear to be one of the three syreni that the other saiyans had encountered; this one had vibrant blue hair. Vegeta didn't have time to wonder where exactly he had seen that shade of blue before, or why her face seemed so darn familiar. The last of his oxygen had been used up. Bubbles poured out of his mouth as the water poured in.

"Don't let her win," the mermaid whispered in his ear. "Mother thinks she knows best, but she is wrong." She took his hand and swam for the sun. If Vegeta's eyes had still been open, he would have seen the sea come to life. With the blue-haired syren in the lead, the denizens of the deep rose. The syreni followed their sister, the piscis followed them, and the aquatic creatures followed them. Another syren, Nappa's syren, took Vegeta's other hand, helping him to the surface.

Memories flooded the drowning prince as her hand touched his. He saw his mother as Nappa saw her, through the memories the syren had absorbed. Seleri was strong, independent, and so sure of what was right. He saw the saiyan race follow her, rising up to protect their own from the Tuffles and their so-called science. He saw her fight in her ape form, clearing away the enemy on the front lines, tiny Tuffles cowering in fear of her might. He saw her wedding, the steel in her jaw as she married his father out of duty. He saw his parents' marriage and how they tried so hard to love each other for the good of their race.

Then he saw himself. His mother loved him, she truly had. Nappa had known Seleri perhaps better than his own father had, and his memories were all the proof Vegeta needed. He watched the proud woman train him to fight and teach him to fly. He saw her take his hand and fly him through the deserts that their race roamed. She had done so much for him before she died. Vegeta had always tried to be strong, to hide his emotions. Nothing good came of showing your enemy anything but conviction, his father had told him. The prince hadn't realized exactly how much he had missed his mother. He'd tried to bury the emotion where it wouldn't show, where it couldn't hurt anyone. It felt good to realize the truth.

Air burned his lungs as they two syreni hoisted him out of the water. Coughs racked his body as he expelled the salty water from deep inside his chest. Looking back beneath the waves, he saw Seleri's form staring at him. The syren certainly wasn't his mother, but she had her spirit.

* * *

Bulma's pod landed with a smack, embedding itself in the sand. It hadn't been the smoothest flight, but she was a bonefide genius. She figured it out. The heiress-turned-slave looked around just in time to see the Prince of all Saiyans surface, followed by what looked to be every single inhabitant of the planet. One in particular caught her eye.

It was her, sort of. It looked like her, minus the tail. One of the syreni had taken her form. Bulma was both confused and disturbed. A syren had taken Seleri's form because Nappa loved the deceased queen. Another had taken Cale's form because Cale and Radditz would do anything for each other. There was no rhyme or reason behind her aquatic appearance. She was dead in this timeline, Vegeta had said so. That meant it couldn't actually be her turned into a fish through some hideous surgery. The only explanation left was that someone was harboring feelings for her. She thought of Yamcha back home and looked around. The genius cursed herself for her foolishness. He was dead here as well. Bannan's syren had been a red-head. Process of elimination again left her with one and only one explanation. Prince Vegeta.

She suppressed a snort. The Prince of all Saiyans, carrying a torch for a lowly human slave girl. It sounded like the set-up to a bad joke. Anyone who knew him knew about his pride for his race, regardless of the timeline. Bulma suspected that if she went to every other timeline out there, that aspect of his personality would be constant. It was such a part of him. Vegeta would never sully that pride by falling in love with anyone but a saiyan. That would be utterly absurd, right?

Her thoughts turned to Visus. The cultist had said, " You will understand when you see her." But who was the 'her'? She looked around, trying to take in all of the faces poking out of the water. Then it hit her. She was looking right at the woman the far-sighted cultist mentioned. Tethys, Mother, the ocean. She was everywhere. The ocean was the driving force behind everything on this planet. Even if every other living thing on Riparian disagreed with Mother, she would do what she thought was best for her children. If they wanted the vox, they would need her approval. Bulma understood what had to happen.

The young genius climbed onto the tallest rock she could find and cleared her throat. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she shouted her message for all to hear. "Tethys," she called. "I speak to you." The waves calmed suddenly, yet the breeze toyed with her cerulean hair. Mother was listening.

"I know everything you do is to protect your children, Tethys. I know you think you are saving the vox from the saiyans who mean to capture them. I will not lie. That is their plan." Vegeta glared at her. Bulma knew from just one glance that he thought she was being incredibly daft. The ocean agreed, for it became choppy, tossing its waves far onto the shore. The saiyans standing in the sand were soaked to the bone, and the syreni struggled to keep Vegeta afloat.

"Look at your children now, Tethys," she continued. "They're protecting Vegeta. They understand what has to happen." His spiky black hair disappeared into Tethys's grasp.

"No!" Bulma gasped. "He's not evil! Vegeta has no plans to harm the vox." The waves spat Vegeta onto the beach, as if they had tasted a particularly nasty bit of food.

"The saiyans have to turn the vox over to Lord Frieza to keep their home planet in tact. Frieza is the one you should be furious at," the blue-haired woman said angrily. "He has plans for the vox's singing, I'm sure, and he won't let them evade him. If you stop us now, he will send more."

Nappa began to nod. The little human was right.

"Yes Tethys, some of your children were harmed today, but only out of self-defense, right?" She glanced at Cale and Bannan, who both nodded. The ocean lapped at their feet, but rose no further.

"If you allow us to take the vox, their won't be any more bloodshed. Just remember, if we fail, you won't be safe. Frieza will send others, and many of his soldiers have little care for life. They will murder every last syren, piscid, and fish in their way until they get what they want. All your children, or just three Tethys. It's your choice."

Bulma climbed off her rocky perch. Bannan clapped her on the shoulder with a wink. He, at least, approved of the speech. Vegeta stood and dusted himself off. His best jumpsuit had sand in the most frustrating of places, but he would live. The three vox clustered around them, their mouths firmly shut and their instruments hanging by their sides. Their meaning was clear; no songs, no trickery. Mother took her children with her as she retreated. The tides sank to their normal levels and the creatures of the deep dived below. Tethys had chosen. She would give them the vox if they would just leave in peace. The saiyans clamored into their pods to do just that.

One pod, however remained on the beach as Bannan moved the ship into place to pick up its new passengers. Bulma still stood on the rocky island surrounded by all three vox. They lay their silvery instruments at her feet and whispered gently to her as they told their story.

Carmen, Aria, and Sona were their names. Mother loved the sounds her waves made and wanted others to know the allure of the ocean. She carefully crafted their rocky island home of the rocks that decorated her depths. From the rich ocean floor sand, she molded the three musicians. Shells were their features. The syreni crafted their musical instruments from the ocean's coral, while the piscid crafted their garments from the sea foam. Tethys loved the vox because they were her expression of everything the ocean was. They symbolized and united its very essence.

Bulma felt a tear rolling down her cheek as the vox finished their story. Of course their mother wanted to protect them. They were her dearest creation. She vowed to do what she could to protect them from Frieza. Kneeling on the sand, she placed her hands in the ocean's waters. "I promise, Tethys," she solemnly swore. "I will return them to you."

Bannan brought the Saiyan ship overhead and opened the hold. Cale, Nappa, and Radditz flew down. Each took a vox in their arms and carried them up to the ship. Then one more saiyan joined them: the prince.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked Bulma impatiently. The blue-haired mermaid leapt through her mind.

"Where else would I go?" she asked with a smile, holding out her hand to him.

* * *

**There's my apology present: the roots of the B/V relationship we all adore. Yay fluff!**

**Stay tuned for next week, when the saiyans turn the vox over to Frieza, Vegeta realizes where he has seen the blue-haired syren before, and Bulma's promise to Tethys is tested.**


	11. The Spinning Wheel Turns

**Sorry about the slow (hah... every other day... slow...) updates. It's been one heck of a week. My car was totaled by a reckless driver and my boss gave me another class to teach, super last minute. Even better, I'm moving in a week, so I'm busy boxing all my earthly possessions. Yeah. Summer was supposed to be relaxing, world! Stop giving me problems to deal with!**

**Enough whining from me. Thank you for the 3.5k views this month! Please read and review, or favorite, or follow. Anything is appreciated. Enjoy the chapter!**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 11: The Spinning Wheel Turns

Bulma spent the evening bustling from room to room, trying to make the vox comfortable in the hold. Carmen, Aria, and Sona sang a dirge. Luckily for the blue-haired slave, the song wasn't enchanted like the one that had enthralled Vegeta on Riparian. The grief hung so thick in the air, Bulma could practically taste it. She admired the brave, selfless act of the vox.

Aria, clearly the youngest muse, clutched her flute to her chest as she accepted a glass of water from the slave. She bit her lip, a question teetering on her lips. Her eldest sister, Carmen, nudged her. "Miss?" she asked softly. "Where are you taking us?"

"You can call me Bulma," she said, smiling kindly. "And I'm sorry, but I don't know. They don't keep me informed." Aria smiled back at her, but Carmen looked a little confused.

"I thought you'd know everything since you and the prince..." Carmen's voice trailed away as Bulma gave her an inquisitive look.

"Well go on," Bulma prompted.

"You're with the prince. Shouldn't you hear what happens?" Carmen continued. Bulma tried to stifle a laugh.

"You... you thought we..." the genius stammered through suppressed giggles. "The prince and I?" She lost the war and snorted with laughter, clutching her sides. "No no. It's not like that."

In Carmen's defense, however, Bulma could see where the vox had gotten the idea. To save Vegeta from the ocean's grasp, she had given him a stunning character review. She knew he was arrogant, stubborn, and frustrating, not to mention borderline evil. He had destroyed Earth. When had she stopped hating him for that?

Then there was the way she had made it back onto the ship. She hadn't taken a pod back like the saiyans. Vegeta had personally flown down to the island and brought her back in his arms. Her cheeks blushed a little at the memory. Maybe Carmen's assessment wasn't that ridiculous, given the events of the day.

She refocused herself. The prince just didn't want to leave his slave on a rocky island in the middle of nowhere space. His character flaws

And of course there was the syren. The mermaid looked exactly like her. Bulma was no fool; she knew why. If the syreni took the form of a man's dream woman, then obviously someone had been dreaming about her. Radditz's syren became Cale, Nappa's became Seleri, and Bannan's became some red head. That left one person: Vegeta. Bulma knew the facts, but she just couldn't bring herself to accept that the Prince of all Saiyans actually liked her. She had always just assumed he hated her like he seemed to hate pretty much everything. Perhaps it wasn't that she was his dream woman, but that the syreni couldn't find anyone else to copy. Maybe he was gay. That seemed more logical. She reassured herself, but knew she was lying.

Nappa opened the door, feeling a bit like he was intruding on something. "Bannan says that we are on course to meet Lord Frieza's ship. We should be there in a few hours," he explained.

"Thanks Nappa," Bulma replied. The vox bowed deeply as he left. Bulma took the opportunity to excuse herself from the awkward situation.

"I really should go check on the saiyans," she apologized, as she backed out of the room.

* * *

Vegeta lay on his bed, staring at his ceiling, hands behind his head. He wasn't tired, just lost in thought. That syren back on Riparian had saved his life, and that bothered him. He didn't need anyone to protect him, the Prince of all Saiyans. What disturbed him more was that she seemed so familiar. He just couldn't place her. Vegeta knew the answer was obvious, but that didn't stimulate his memory.

A gentle knock on the door forced him out of his thoughts. He said nothing, assuming the person would go away. They didn't. The door slid open, and Bulma stepped inside.

"The vox are settled in the hold," she informed him. "Do you need anything while I'm here?"

Vegeta didn't answer. The answer to his syren question was literally staring him right in the face. That blue hair. The mermaid had taken the slave girl's form! Did that mean she was the woman of his dreams? He quickly suppressed that thought. He would marry a proud saiyan woman and carry on the royal bloodline, but only after Frieza was defeated. The blue-haired slave was spunky, he'd give her that much. He enjoyed provoking her, but she was no saiyan. In fact, if he left her alone with essentially any alien race, she would end up as dinner. The syreni were dead wrong. The prince forced himself to answer.

"I don't need anything, woman," he replied, perhaps with more menace than he intended. She shrugged and walked out.

* * *

The ship rocked as something struck it. Vegeta was thrown from his bed. Rushing upstairs to the bridge, he saw the problem: another ship. He knew what Frieza's ships looked like, and this didn't match the description. Besides, it was to early for them to have reached the rendezvous point. Who, then, was on this ship? As if to answer his question, an airlock opened and a figure crossed from the other ship. He heard a knocking two floors down outside his own ship's airlock. The prince flicked his wrist to Bulma as if he were shooing her. She took it to mean 'go answer the door'.

There was a thunder of footsteps up the stairs, then a the visitor took a flying leap toward Vegeta. The conflict was over in a flash. The helmeted alien was pinned to the ground, the prince's elbow on his throat.

"Gotcha, shrimp!" Vegeta growled. Nappa reached down and pulled the helmet off the trapped victim.

"Tarble!" he exclaimed, dropping the helmet in surprise.

"Hi Nappa," the alien replied. Vegeta moved off of the failed attacker and allowed Nappa to help him up. Bulma examined the visitor. He had hair just like Vegeta's, though perhaps tamer. Their eyes were the same as well.

"Got me again, brother," he smiled, embracing Vegeta.

"Brother?" Bulma, Radditz, and Cale all wondered in unison. It made sense, Bulma admitted to herself. They did look very similar, down to the half-smile they both wore on their face.

"You got taller," Nappa laughed, clapping the young saiyan on the back.

"I'm almost as tall as Brother, now," he said, grinning like an idiot.

"You are still a shrimp, shrimp," the Prince of all Saiyans muttered.

"Well that makes you a shrimp too, then," his little brother teased.

"No one calls me a shrimp and lives," Vegeta growled. Tarble leaned over to Nappa, grinning widely. "He hasn't changed, has he?"

"Not in the least," the veteran saiyan agreed. Vegeta shot a glare at both of them.

"Why are you here, anyway?" the frustrated saiyan prince asked. Tarble sobered quickly.

"I'm here for Gure," he explained.

"What's a Gure?" Radditz wanted to know.

"Gure is my wife," Tarble explained patiently.

"I've never heard of her, and I know lots of saiyans," Nappa wondered aloud.

"That's because she's not saiyan," the little prince clarified. Vegeta repeated his earlier performance, pinning his brother to the ground.

"You only have two duties, brother. Stay hidden so you can assume the throne if father and I die, and protect the royal bloodline. You are violating both of those things at the moment," Vegeta growled.

"Don't be ridiculous brother. You won't die. So it doesn't matter if I married Gure," Tarble shot back. He looked like a gangly teenager. Bulma wondered how old he actually was.

"We will talk about it later," Vegeta sighed, rolling his eyes. "You have to leave, and quickly. We are about to meet with Lord Frieza." Tarble's eyes widened.

"Big brother, Gure will die if you don't come quickly," he warned. It was easy to see that he cared for his wife.

"Well if I don't meet with Frieza, Father and the rest of our race will die," Vegeta explained patiently.

Bulma butted in. "Do all of you need to meet with Frieza? The vox will cooperate."

Vegeta thought for a moment.

"Nappa, Radditz, slave girl. Go with Prince Tarble. Take your earpieces. We will meet you there after we drop off the vox," he ordered.

"I'm coming with you," Bulma corrected.

"No, woman. You're going to help Tarble," he ordered again, eyes narrowing.

"I made a promise to Tethys to protect the vox as best as I could, and that means going with you," she demanded, putting her foot down both figuratively and literally.

"Know your place!" he shot back.

"If I knew my place, you would have died on Riparian," she retorted.

"I... I..." he stammered. Dammit, she was right. "Fine. Come along, but stay out of Frieza's sight. Nappa, Radditz,… brother ...good luck."

* * *

It was only an hour later when Cale sighted Frieza's spacecraft. The overlord's ship had docked with theirs, silently ordering the saiyans to come aboard.

Vegeta had ordered Bulma to stay hidden, so she obeyed, not wanting to test the prince's patience. First, however, she visited the vox one last time. To Carmen, the eldest sister, she gave an earpiece, and showed her how to operate it. Bulma made her promise only to use it in the most dire of circumstances, and to keep it secret from both Frieza and the saiyans. Content that she had fulfilled her promise to Tethys, she went to the common room and watched the proceedings on the view screen.

"You're late, little monkey," Frieza crooned. "I was beginning to wonder if you had failed me."

"My apologies, Lord Frieza," Vegeta replied through gritted teeth. "We were delayed by pirates."

"They have been acting out recently," the tyrant admitted. "I assume you took care of them."

"Yes, my lord."

"Onto our other business," Frieza continued, switching topics. "I hear you have obtained the vox."

"We have," Vegeta confirmed.

"Good. If you would, have your associates bring them aboard," the monster ordered, a malicious grin spreading across his face. Cale went back to the saiyan ship to enact the transfer.

"Meanwhile," the ice-jinn said. "I have another question. Where is the rest of your crew, little monkey?" Vegeta cringed, as always, at Frieza's nickname for him. He despised being reminded of his stature, and of the lack of retaliation the tyrant demanded of him.

"They're handling the pirate situation," Vegeta responded without missing a beat.

"I thought it was already handled," the reptilian hissed.

"I took care of the situation. Radditz and Nappa are merely cleaning up." The prince was unsure if his master bought the lie. The ruler of most of the known galaxy leered suspiciously at him, but ceased his interrogation. Vegeta let out the breath he had unwittingly been holding when Cale and the three vox entered the room.

Zarbon and Dodoria moved quickly, gagging the muses with cloths and taking away their instruments. Bulma was glad to see they received no worse treatment. Frieza was not notorious for his kindness or mercy to prisoners. She was also amused that the tyrant's two flunkies seemed positively terrified by the vox's legendary abilities. Dodoria stood with his fingers in his ears, despite the precautions they had already taken.

"Excellent work, monkey," Frieza purred, which made Vegeta cringe. Good news for his master was bad news for him. "In fact, your work is so excellent, I have a new mission for you," the tyrant declared.

"And that would be..." the prince prompted.

"Oh not much. It's just a little moon I want obliterated."

* * *

"Gure is on a moon?" Nappa confirmed.

"It's tiny and unimportant. Frieza will never think to look for her there," Tarble said, clearly proud of his work. "It's known as Ananke, orbiting the planet Moirae. The people there are famous for their weaving. It's one of those rare places where all sorts of races mingle, perfect to hide a person."

"Then where is the danger?" Nappa pressed as they hurtled through space on the younger prince's ship.

"I've seen several of Frieza's men on the surface and a few of his warships in the sky," he explained. Radditz cut in.

"I think that means Frieza found her."

"But I did everything I could think of to keep her safe!" Tarble choked. Nappa patted him on the back in a reassuring manner.

"Frieza's team of sniffers know. Those rats know can find information on anything," Radditz explained sourly.

* * *

"You'll have to be more specific," Vegeta growled. The reptilian was being evasive, and he didn't like it one bit.

"It's a small moon called Ananke," the ruthless leader explained. "It orbits Planet 297."

"You'll have to refresh my memory. Assigning numbers to your acquisitions confuses me," the elder saiyan prince spat.

"The local filth refer to it as Moirae," Zarbon chimed in.

"Now I remember," Vegeta smirked. "That little moon full of weavers. Did they make an insulting tapestry or something?"

"Cute, monkey. Watch your tongue or I'll cut it out," Frieza threatened.

"I want someone dead, and I want no mistakes. Destroy the moon or I destroy your planet. Got it?"

"Yes sir," the prince muttered.

* * *

Bulma heard it with her own two ears. Vegeta was going to destroy an inhabited moon, full of people. She, on the other hand, had better plans.

"Radditz," she said into her earpiece. There was a little static, then a response.

"Yeah?" the saiyan replied.

"Frieza just passed down the next mission. He wants you to destroy a moon named Ananke."

"You're kidding," he laughed.

"I'm serious!" she shouted. "Stop laughing!"

"We're headed there right now."

"You have to be kidding," Bulma said skeptically.

"Nope. The person we're supposed to save is on the moon we're supposed to blow up. Convenient."

"Can you get people to evacuate?" the genius asked, gears turning in her mind.

"We're talking about a whole moon here," Radditz warned. "It will definitely take some time."

"Get Frieza's men to start shooting. Convince them he's sending an entire army," she pleaded.

"That's suicide," he cautioned. "Plus, Frieza's sniffers will know if saiyans started an evacuation before the explosion."

"Get Gure to do it. Or find some locals."

"Perhaps, kid. I will do what I can," he promised.

* * *

**Greek mythology buffs, this for you. Ananke is the mother of the fates, also known as the Moirae. That's why the moon is known for it's weaving. **

**The chapter title is a reference to the ****Witches of Eileanan**** series by Kate Forsyth, one of my favorite works of all time. The next two chapter titles will be references to the same series.**

**Stay tuned for next time, when Vegeta meets his sister-in-law, Ananke is bombarded, and everyone finds out why Gure is marked for death.**


	12. The Threads Entwine

**Shameless plug no jutsu! If you like Hellsing, or just enjoy trolling homicidal vampires, please check out my one-shot, Bored Meeting, where Integra is bored out of her mind at an investors' meeting and Alucard takes the opportunity to abuse his telepathic powers. It is posted on the Team Dragon Star account. For those of you who don't know about TDS we are an auditioned writing team. Check out the Marshaling Zone in our forums for more information.**

**I'm sorry the updates have slowed down, but classes are starting again, which means I have work and school. I will aim to update every few days. If that doesn't happen (and I guarantee some weeks it won't), then I will update once a week, on Mondays, like my other fic (which I have been neglecting for this story). **

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 12: The Threads Entwine

"You married _that_?" Radditz gasped. "Please don't have children."

"I won't tell your father," Nappa promised, guffawing.

Tarble glared angrily at both of them as he hugged his wife to his chest.

"I mean, how would that even work?" Radditz wondered aloud.

"It is nice to meet you both," Gure interjected, bowing. She ignored the saiyans' rude comments. Her species was quite rare after all, and she had heard much worse.

Nappa sobered. The little, however ridiculous-looking, person before him was still Tarble's wife.

"Any friend of the little prince's is a friend of mine," he said, bowing back. Nappa elbowed Radditz, who was still staring rudely at the tiny alien in front of him. He bowed to Gure, and forced himself to bite back further questions.

"Down to business," Nappa started. "Tarble, Frieza has ordered Vegeta to destroy this moon. He should be here in about two hours with the other, so we have until then to do something about it."

"Two hours! We can't possibly save Ananke in two hours!" Tarble exclaimed, panic causing his voice to crack.

"Who said anything about saving Ananke?" Nappa corrected.

"We have to stop my brother," Tarble protested, but Nappa shook his head.

"Ananke explodes or Vegeta-sei does," he explained.

"But what about everyone who lives here?" the little prince asked sadly.

"That's what the two hours are for," Radditz deduced. Nappa nodded.

"We evacuate them," he confirmed. A smile broke across Radditz's face.

"Let's create some mass panic."

* * *

Bannan punched in to coordinates for the Moirae system, and the engines began to hum. He let Bulma stand watch, narrating his actions. He taught her what all the gages said, and what they should read. He showed her the autopilot system and the manual steering. He even let her fly it for a few parsecs. Bulma was fascinated to learn about all the new technology the saiyan race had created. She imagined all the things she could have learned if both Earth and Vegeta-sei survived in the same universe.

Bulma glanced toward the sullen prince. Vegeta was worried. It was easy to see. His brows were furrowed, and his expression was grim. She could almost read his thoughts from across the room. What did his brother's wife do to anger Frieza? Who the heck had Tarble married? The heiress felt a bit sad for him.

"It'll be alright," she whispered comfortingly to him when Bannan left the room.

"Shut it, Earth woman. I don't need your sympathy," he growled. Any empathy Bulma had for the grouchy prince vanished on the spot.

* * *

Tarble pulled the hood over his head, leading the cloaked saiyans through the streets of Ananke. His path twisted and turned through sprawling marketplaces, space ports, and businesses. He stopped at none of these places, instead pausing outside of a disheveled home. The young saiyan prince pulled aside a curtain of beads. Nappa and Radditz took that as their cue to enter. Gure followed Tarble inside, trusting him to keep her safe.

"Atropos," Tarble greeted. A wizened hag crouched over a spinning wheel. To the saiyan's shock, she had no eyes, just two hollow sockets that stared emptily at them. In her hand, the hag grasped a pair of wicked-looking shears with twelve inch teeth. With them, she cut a length of thread. Unlike the other thread woven on this planet, it was clumpy and knotted, not at all what one would expect from a place renowned for it's artistry in weaving. It looked as though an amateur had done the job. Nevertheless, the crone cut the thread and hung it on a nearby rack. How she would ever find it again was a mystery, for the small, worn house was filled with racks of threads.

"Ah the little prince has come to visit again," she cackled. "A curious one, you are."

"Yes, ma'am," Tarble replied.

"Tell me your question, and I shall tell you the price," Atropos declared.

"I do not have a question today, ma'am."

"You lie," she hissed. "You always have questions."

"Of course I have a question," the prince responded. "But I have more pressing issues at the moment. I come with a warning."

"Silly child, you seek to warn the weavers? The Moirae? We decide fate itself." The decrepit woman was clearly offended.

"Atropos, Lord Frieza is sending warriors to destroy Ananke. In two hours," Tarble stated bluntly. That caught the weaver's attention.

"Sisters!" the crone called toward the ceiling.

Uneven footsteps creaked first above them, then down the stairs. Two women, equally as aged and crotchety entered the room at a toddling pace. The shorter one had one glistening eyeball with which she peered eerily around the room. The other was equally as blind as Atropos. Tarble shuddered as her gaze passed over him.

"Lachesis, if you would," Atropos requested, holding out her hand. The shorter moira's spindle-like fingers wrapped around her lone eye. She pulled it from the socket with a wet squelch, depositing it in her sister's outstretched palm. Atropos blew gently on the white orb, guiding the falling dust motes away from it. The crone then placed the eye in her own empty socket, swirling it around until it faced the right way.

"Ah yes," Atropos grinned. "I remember your face now, princeling. Unfortunately it is not your face I need to examine." The wizened moira stood with a creak and tottered over to the many racks of threads. She searched through several until she found just the one she was looking for.

"Tarble, son of Vegeta, prince of the saiyan race," she recited. "It is not your fate to die today."

"We mean to evacuate everyone," he replied. "Hopefully, no one will die today."

"Clever child," Atropos smiled. "But why warn us? You know my sisters and I can see the future."

"If you foresee that the moon will be destroyed, everyone will flee to safety."

"Princeling, I am afraid that isn't the case. You know what our attackers are after." Tarble looked at his wife, pale with fear.

"Why?" he pleaded. "What do they want with Gure?"

"That is her secret to tell, I am afraid." Atropos removed her eye and handed it back to Lachesis. Tarble knew it meant that it was time to leave.

Outside, Radditz was the first one to act.

"Alright half-pint," he threatened, nabbing Gure from behind Tarble's leg and holding her aloft. "You have some explaining to do."

"Leave her alone," Tarble wailed, trying to reach his wife. Radditz simply held the little alien higher.

"Why does Frieza want you dead?" he demanded. Nappa came up behind his ally, seizing Gure from him. He placed her gently on the ground. She scrambled back behind Tarble.

"I'm sorry, miss," Nappa apologized on Radditz's behalf. "It really would help us if we knew, though." Gure nodded.

"Frieza discovered something in the wreckage of a planet he destroyed. It was a stone about my size. Legend says it is one of seven, and when all seven are brought together, they grant a wish," she explained. "Because the guardian of the planet died when Frieza destroyed its home, the stones won't work. The legend does say that other planets might have similar set of stones. Frieza thinks that he can find these stones and wish for immortality."

* * *

"Prince Vegeta!" came the hasty call. "Are you there?"

"Of course I am here, you fool," Vegeta growled, taking out his worries on the caller. "The comm link is attached to my ear."

"Frieza… he's after immortality," Radditz explained frantically. It was as though Vegeta's worst nightmares had forced their way into reality. His chances of defeating the man holding his planet hostage were already slim to none. If the accursed reptile became immortal, well, he might as well give up.

"How?" the prince demanded tersely.

"Something about seven magical balls," the underling feebly answered.

"Seven magical balls?" he spat. "That's all you can tell me?"

That particular piece of information meant little to the elder saiyan prince, but it meant plenty to a certain human. Bulma sat straight up in her chair. Seven magical balls could only refer to one thing. She switched on her earpiece.

"Frieza is after the Dragon Balls, and I know where to find them."

* * *

"Sisters! Come look!" Lachesis called.

"Give me the eye," Clotho requested. She examined a rack of threads, ending in fray, all the same length.

"Do you see, sister? They all end abruptly, today," Lachesis informed her.

Atropos took a look as well.

"Atropos!" Clotho yelled accusatorially. "You're the cutter of the threads. Did you take your shears to this rack while you didn't have the eye?"

"Nay, sister," she denied.

"Then it seems the princeling was right. Our home is to be destroyed," Lachesis swore.

"Sister Clotho," Atropos proposed. "Start the spinning wheel. We must take a hand in weaving today's events."

* * *

"Well the Moirae didn't help," Radditz reminded everyone sullenly, for what must have been the third time in five minutes. "Have any other friends to take us to?" he mockingly asked Tarble.

"That's it, Radditz!" the little prince exclaimed. "You're a genius!" Nappa elbowed his friend.

"He must not know you very well," he teased.

"What if we gathered all of my friends and sent them out with a message?" Tarble proposed. "That way Frieza wouldn't know it was saiyans spreading the message. Our planet would be safe and we could save everyone."

"Hope you have a lot of friends, kid," Radditz laughed.

For the next half hour or so, Tarble and Gure ran about, sending friends to Radditz and Nappa. The two veteran saiyans explained the plan to each friend and sent them out to spread the word. A few came flew or came in hover cars. They were sent to the farthest parts of the moon so that everyone could be warned. The effects soon became visible. Every spaceport on the planet was jammed with traffic, and every privately owned ship was filled with possessions and people. Those who could survive in space simply flew off with only what they could carry.

* * *

"Lord Frieza," the purple alien on the screen said with the utmost respect.

"Ah. Captain Ginyu. Has Vegeta arrived on the moon yet?" the reptilian wished to know.

"Not to my knowledge, Lord Frieza. I have some unfortunate news."

"Go on," Frieza demanded, eyes narrowing with annoyance.

"The inhabitants of Ananke have begun to flee. News of the attack has leaked out, somehow." Ginyu only hoped his master wouldn't shoot the messenger.

"Begin the bombardment immediately. Kill all who attempt to flee. No one must know of the Dragon Balls. Dispose of personnel who had knowledge as you see fit. I will trust your judgement, Captain."

The tyrant could hear Ginyu shouting, "Fire!" before the transmission ended.

* * *

It was deadly quiet on the saiyan spacecraft as their destination drifted into view. Flames blossomed from an array of warships surrounding the moon. Small shapes, presumably aliens, flew off the surface only to fall back as charred corpses. A few individual ships were trying to escape, dodging attacks from the larger war vessels.

Vegeta picked Bulma up and threw her unceremoniously over her shoulder, protesting angrily. He carried her down to the flight deck and shoved her into a pod. The door slammed shut and sealed.

"Make sure the Dragon Balls become common knowledge," he shouted through the glass and over her furious tirade. He set the coordinates for a planet he knew. Perhaps Vegeta-sei wasn't the safest place in the universe at the moment, but at least it wasn't on fire. The woman would tell his father of the Dragon Balls and the saiyan military could move to capture them. Frieza wouldn't get his immortality, and if things went as planned, they could wish their overlord away without so much as a fight. He debated for a moment if such a wish went against everything his race believed in, but decided that with a foe like Frieza, he didn't care.

He could see her face streaked with tears as he launched the pod. It hurt to watch, but he did it anyway. The prince still make out her blue hair as the pod floated away from the ruins of Ananke. At last, all he could see was the pod's cylindrical shape, and then not even that. Cracking his knuckles, he walked upstairs a changed man.

"Bannan," he barked. "Give me the controls. I'm going to find my brother. You two, go keep up appearances. Aid in the destruction. Keep our home safe."

"What about you, prince?" Bannan asked.

"I'm going to go save my brother."

* * *

Tarble sat at the helm of his ship, Gure behind him. Nappa and Radditz were at the airlock, pulling survivors inside. Their messages had saved a few people, but the bombings had started earlier than planned. For the second time that day, Tarble stopped outside of a rickety house in the business district. Nappa jumped ship and flew down to ground. He ripped down the beads handing over the doorway in his haste.

"Hey! Sisters!" the saiyan shouted through cupped hands.

"Quiet, child," one shouted right beside him. "I am blind, not deaf."

"We've come to evacuate you," he explained. The moira gestured at her sisters.

"It spells disaster if the weaving is interrupted," she said, declining.

"The warships are closing in. You don't have much of a choice." Nappa explained, conscious of the time ticking away.

"We cannot leave until the weaving is complete," she repeated.

"Suit yourself," he finally caved, flying back to the ship.

Nappa motioned for Tarble to move the ship, but the small saiyan shook his head.

"Prince, we'll be killed if we don't get out of here," he explained, patience evaporating.

"We have to save the moirae. They're important," was Tarble's reasoning.

"Yeah!" Gure chimed in.

"Important or not, they refuse to leave until their ridiculous weaving is complete," Nappa pleaded.

"Their weaving! They're doing a weaving!" the prince cried. "Nappa, this is bad."

* * *

Cale was enjoying herself, despite her protesting morals. Destruction was always a hobby of hers. She sent rubble flying through a building, watching it crash through the outer wall and the bedroom inside. One unnecessarily large ki blast and it was as though the residence never existed. The female saiyan flipped her braid over her shoulder, feeling rather proud of herself.

Bannan used the opportunity to test out the upgrades to his arm. He started small, picking up a pebble and crushing it. Then a rock. Then a bigger rock. Then a hunk of concrete-like building material. Each fell before his upgraded mechanics. The cyborg also took care to exercise his ki-abilities. Vegeta and Nappa, who knew him before his injury, were conscious of how his ki had shrunk after the loss of his arm. In addition, it was exponentially more difficult to manipulate his remaining ki with only one hand. Nevertheless, ki was an important weapon, and needed to be maintained. He chose a building with a line of windows, and did some target practice.

Vegeta flew up alongside him, opening the airlock.

"Get inside. This place is about to go," the prince's voice hollered via the other saiyan's earpiece. Bannan flew inside. Tarble and his wife were nowhere to be seen.

"Cale wasn't too far from me, last time I checked," he informed his prince.

"I see her," Vegeta affirmed. "Stop playing with your hair and get in here," he growled, this time into his earpiece. Cale hopped aboard as well.

"Where's Tarble?" she asked.

"I couldn't find him," Vegeta growled through clenched teeth. He handed the controls back to Bannan so the more skilled pilot could navigate them through the warships just about to destroy the moon below them. Cale stretched out her mind, trying to sense the younger prince's ki. Nothing.

"I can't sense him," she informed Vegeta.

"I couldn't either," he admitted, head hung. They all knew what missing ki meant: the second prince of Vegeta-sei was deceased.

* * *

Tarble glanced at his surroundings. The sky was green, and the grass was blue. It was no planet he had ever seen before.

"Thank you for helping me," he said to the green child standing next to him. "My name is Tarble, and this is my wife Gure."

"My name is Dende."

* * *

**Thank you for the 4k views this month!**

**Stay tuned for next time, when Tarble and Gure discover why and how they arrived on this mysterious planet, the Cult of Bardock reveals their plan, and Frieza learns of the events on Ananke.**


	13. The Tapestry is Woven

**I am moving tomorrow, as in packing up my house and moving to another. If you PM me, I probably won't get back to you. My apologies in advance.**

**Tank you for the 4.5k views this month! Enjoy!**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 13: The Tapestry is Woven

"My name is Dende," the green child explained by way of introduction.

"Hello Dende," Tarble responded. "Did you see how we arrived here?"

"That is easy. I used my instant transmission," the green alien said, grinning.

"Well then, thank you for saving us," Tarble replied with a bow. Gure bowed as well.

"But Dende," the young prince continued. "How did you know to come and help us?"

"Guru told me," the child explained. "He wishes to see you."

"Lead the way," the princeling acquiesced.

"Take my hands please," Dende requested, proffering them to the saiyan and his wife. Tarble confidently seized the small green hand, with Gure following his lead.

A blink of the eyes and the three stood in front of an enormous person. Tarble assumed that this new person and Dende were of the same race. Their garb and coloration were similar, and they both had antennae, but the similarities stopped there. Dende was small and childish. The new person was morbidly obese and clearly ancient. It was also possible that the chair he currently sat in had fused with his gelatinous backside.

"This is Grand Elder Guru," Dende announced proudly. The visitors bowed politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for assisting us, sir," Tarble greeted, the essence of politeness.

"Thank you," Gure echoed, bowing again.

"It was nothing," Guru replied in a low, rumbling bass voice.

"If I might," Tarble requested, "how did you know we were in trouble?"

"NAIL!" the Grand Elder shouted, stretching the name so it lasted several seconds. Another green person, this one with a surly disposition, entered the room.

"Yes, Lord Guru?" presumably Nail asked.

"Fetch them," came the order.

"Yes Lord Guru," Nail obediently answered. He returned a minute later, arms laden with a wooden rack. Stretched across the frame were seven threads. All started at varying times, but all ended abruptly in fray at the same exact place.

"The note, Nail," the Grand Elder commanded. His green servant cleared his throat and read a small piece of paper attached to the rack.

"It reads, 'There is an eighth thread. These must be re-spun.' " From the silence in the room, it was clear no one understood the cryptic remark. Yet someone had understood that it meant to help the young saiyan prince. A figure robed in black entered the room, his hood obscuring his face.

* * *

The flames of Ananke burned brightly below themas Bannan took the helm. It was clear that the cybernetic saiyan was nervous. He was sweating profusely, and his breaths were shallow and strained. Frieza's soldiers were shooting down any vessel attempting to escape the carnage, so he had every right to panic. Anyone who knew the reptilian overlord would not find it surprising if he intended this to be the final resting place of his saiyan mercenaries.

He glanced behind him at his prince and at his friend. Vegeta was his liege. He was sworn to protect him. Cale… well he thought of her like a little sister. He would see that no harm came to her. They were counting on him to save them. Somehow it calmed him, focused him. Bannan took a deep breath and steered the ship towards a sizable gap in the blockade. The cyborg wisely kept to a reasonable speed. The faster they went, the more they looked like escapees, and the more likely target they were.

"Bannan!" Cale warned, her voice cracking. She pointed to the nearest warship. It had more turrets than he could count, and every last one was turning slowly. Towards them. The saiyan pilot gunned the ship, willing it to fly as fast as it could. Engine damage was fixable, suffocation in the vacuum of space was not. The turrets locked on.

"Come on, baby," he begged the ship. "Don't fail me now." He rerouted power from every extraneous system and rerouted it to the engines. The cyborg could feel himself being forced into his seat as the juice took effect and the ship surged forward. Behind him, he heard Cale screech and Vegeta swear as the sudden acceleration caught them off guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the turrets. They were still following the ship, their unison motion haunting.

"Please, girl!" he begged again, routing power from everything but the propulsion system. "Hold your breath," he warned as he shut off the life support. "And hold onto something," he continued, shutting the gravity off. Again, the ship greedily consumed the extra energy and surged forward. Bannan patted the main control console affectionately. "That's my girl."

He took one last glance at the receding turrets, and saw flashes of green like a million deadly raindrops falling toward them. There was time to swear, and then everything was gone.

* * *

Radditz rushed over to the controls. The prince and the odd creature he claimed to have married were simply gone, like they never existed. It was utterly impossible. He and Nappa were guarding the airlock, the only way off the ship. Instant transmission was a myth and teleportation a distant technological dream.

As curious as he was, the saiyan had no time. The prince's ship had already nosed down, heading for the ground. The controls were utterly alien to him. Normally, he was happy to let Bannan do the flying. The aging saiyan was skilled at what he did, and had more than a natural dislike for people touching 'his girl'. It was simply easier to let the old man and his precious ship spend some quality time together. Today, however, he was beginning to regret taking the easy way out.

The ship was still plunging for the ground at increasing speeds. He would have to learn, and fast. One of the stray passengers he and his partner had pulled aboard appeared to understand the situation. The weaver, presumably, let out a blood-curdling screech, pointing out the bridge window. Radditz empathized. The burning ruins of Ananke were rapidly approaching. He hit a button, with no clue whatsoever of its function. The saiyan felt his hair lift off the back of his neck, and his body lift from the seat. The passengers shrieked.

"Damn gravity controls," he swore, hitting the button again. He fell roughly into the captain's chair.

Nappa shut the airlock and rushed over. "What are you doing? Where's the prince?" he demanded.

"I don't know and I don't know," Radditz spat back.

"Try this," Nappa replied, an edge of panic to his voice. He hit it without waiting for an opinion. The bridge window darkened systematically.

"Idiot!" Radditz called. "That's the radiation shield!" The younger saiyan hit another button. He heard the rush of a fan behind him. It was the sound of the internal environment control kicking on. He became conscious of the sweat dripping down his back and running into his eyes. Radditz wasn't sure if it was the heater he had just turned on or the mounting pressure.

"This one! I got it!" Nappa insisted, hitting another button on the top of the screen. This time all the menus and gages disappeared, replaced with another set.

"Directional controls," Radditz sighed with relief. He nudged the ship upward, resuming the course to safety. The relief was only temporary. Frieza's bombarding warships drew ever closer. They would have to pass the military blockade if they wished to survive.

Wires hummed with electricity as the ship's energy system powered the propulsion. To look like a piece of space junk, one had to float like a piece of space junk. Without a proper pilot, this was the best course of action: cut the engines. Much like with the computer system, he had almost no clue what he was doing. Wires in a wide array of colors seemed to scream, "Cut me!" After several long moments of study, he made a decision. Glancing out the bridge window, he saw Frieza's warships drawing within firing range. He knew there was no other choice. Radditz sliced clean through the set of wires he thought was most likely to control the engine.

The hum of the propulsion system faded away, the silence deafening. They floated, just as Radditz had planned. Sheer luck had kept them from dying a fire-y death, at least so far. One last obstacle remained: the blockade.

The waiting was torture. There were other, faster-moving ships that made better targets for the warships' turrets. Their vessel was just waiting there, like a sitting duck, albeit a slightly camouflaged duck. A woman wept in a corner. Her soft sobs were loud in the deadly quiet. Nappa and Radditz shared a worried glance. Both saiyans felt a soft pressure on their hands, and then the ship vanished.

* * *

She screamed, pounding on the glass with her all her might. Her human limbs did little to harm the glass keeping her safe from the vacuum of space. Vegeta shouted something to her, but both the glass and her own screams of denial prevented her from hearing. The prince was at the control panel. All it took was a few simple pushes of a button, and she was floating away in her pod, away from the only place she could think of as home in this timeline. Bulma couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever see it again, ever see him again.

Why had he sent her away? Had she not been useful? Of course that was a ridiculous thought. She had saved his life back on Riparian. She cooked his meals and did his laundry. She took care of the vox during their short stay on the ship. She even took care of the arrogant prince himself when he had suffered from those horrible mysterious burns. No, she assured herself, she wasn't useless. Why, then, had Vegeta thrown her into a pod and sent her off to who knows where?

Bulma savored her last glimpse of her prince. He turned away looking regretful, or so she imagined. His figure soon became too small to see. The ship vanished too, eventually, merging with the inky blackness of empty space. Then the stars beside her shut off.

* * *

The Crown Prince of the Saiyan Race rose from the dirt, brushing the dust from his pants. He took in his surroundings. The foliage around him was a sea-foam blue in the form of rolling grasses and rounded topiary-like trees. The sky was a deep green, which the water reflected. From his vantage point, the terrain seemed to indicate some sort of archipelago. The horizon was dotted with rolling plains broken by abrupt plateaus and flowing water. Vegeta wasn't sure where he was, only that he had never been there before.

Cale and Bannan groaned nearby, both coming to. Bannan stood first. He ran straight over to their ship, which was in surprisingly good condition for a crashed vessel. _Presumably crashed_, Vegeta corrected himself. If he didn't know better, he might have thought that the ship was placed there, or landed there on its own. The cyborg stretched his arms as wide as he could, embracing the hull in a hug. The bright clunk of metal on metal sounded as his arms connected with the vessel he cared for so much.

Cale was more civil about the situation. She sat disheveled on the ground. After checking to make sure all of her body parts were intact and functional, she checked her hair. The combat and …. well whatever had transported them here… had ruined her braid's immaculate appearance. She fixed it with skill, tying the pink ribbon with a flourish.

Eventually, all three became aware of something nearby: a large domed building. It was bone-white, decorated with several jutting points reminiscent of the spires of a castle. It was practically begging to be explored. The three saiyans answered its plea, entering.

A morbidly obese green alien sat upon a throne flanked by several other members of his race. A hooded figure sent chills down Vegeta's spine. It was clearly a member of the Cult of Bardock. They were creepy, indeed, but they hadn't steered him wrong so far. To his great surprise, there were two more people in the room.

"Tarble!" Bannan called to the princeling. "We thought you were dead." Vegeta took advantage of the touching reunion to allow himself a moment of weakness. A look of peaceful relief found its way onto his face for just a few seconds.

The final person in the room was of an unknown species. Vegeta was quite positive he had never seen anything like it.

"Glad you're safe too, Gure," Bannan laughed, seizing both Tarble and the mysterious alien in his arms.

_Wait… Gure?_ Vegeta thought. The name was familiar, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't a saiyan name. It wasn't any of his previous slaves, at least not that he could remember. It wasn't any of Frieza's minions. The answer hit him like a Kamehameha to the gut. Gure was the name of his brother's wife. That… thing… was married to his brother. Tarble might have laughed if the expression on Vegeta's face wasn't directed at his wife.

Tarble gave his elder brother a big hug, something he probably wouldn't have been capable if Vegeta had been in a normal frame of mind. "Vegeta," he said calmly, "I would like to introduce you to my wife, Gure."

"It is good to meet you, brother-in-law," she added, bowing.

"You as well," Vegeta replied reflexively, bowing back.

Tarble chuckled. His brother was in a bit of shock. The shocking events didn't abate, either. From nowhere, Radditz appeared directly on top of Cale's foot. She punched him in the arm with her full strength, then captured him in a tearful embrace. Nappa appeared a few feet away. He was still clutching the hand of his green alien savior.

A loud crash outside caused everyone, regardless of species, to run outside. The Grand Elder was much to old for running, but he strained his eyes trying to see. Vegeta was the first on the scene, ki ready in case it was hostile. It wasn't hostile, it was round. It was, in fact a space pod of saiyan origins. The pod had plowed straight into the hard dirt. There was a hiss of decompressing air and the glass moved aside, opening. A familiar blue-haired woman stepped out.

"Bulma!" Vegeta gasped. He winced, realizing he was more relieved to see the slave girl than he had been to see his supposedly dead brother. He expected her to tease that he had finally slipped up and called her by her proper name, or a slap for shoving her into the pod and ignoring her protests. She did neither. She was too busy glancing around, mouth wide open.

"I don't believe it," she whispered. "I'm on Planet Namek."

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time, when the Cult reveals their plan, the saiyans discover Bulma's true origins, and the Dragon Balls resurface.**


	14. The Cult of Bardock

**Hi everyone,**

**This is my first chapter from my new apartment (yay!), and the start of a whole new section of the story. It's a pivotal chapter, so I took my time and made sure I set things up properly. Sorry for the slow update.**

**In case you haven't noticed, I am a huge fan of Team Four Star. I try to keep it subtle, but sometimes it poisons my opinions of certain characters (Yamcha is a prime example.). This chapter (and the past one) deals with Dende, Guru, and Nail, three characters who the abridged series has made hilarious. If I portray them differently than the anime, this is probably why. **

**Thank you everyone for the 5k views this month. I'm glad someone (besides me) is enjoying this :) Please keep reading, reviewing, favoriting, and subscribing. It encourages me to write faster. **

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Chapter 14: The Cult of Bardock

"Hold on, woman," Vegeta interjected. "Did you say you were here before?"

"Namek is a quiet planet," Dende explained, also confused. "We do not often receive visitors."

"I... was here a long time ago," Bulma blurted, trying to disguise her mistake. Of course she hadn't been to Namek in this timeline. Frieza was still alive, so it was likely Goku had never come here, which would mean Vegeta wouldn't have either. She shouldn't know the name Namek, never mind have enough information on it to deduce where she was after only a few seconds.

"I was here a long time ago as well," Grand Elder Guru responded.

"I...I…," the genius stammered. She'd certainly made a mess of things this time.

"Your pathetic planet was barely even capable of space flight, yet you immediately knew where you were," Vegeta insisted.

"Well I… you see…," she protested. Her defenses were down, and she was vulnerable to attack.

"You acted like you had never seen me before when you first showed up on my ship," Vegeta continued.

Bannan interjected. "According to Frieza's logs, your ship just appeared on Zarbon's, like you had teleported. Where are you from, missy?"

"She could be a spy for Frieza!" Radditz thought.

"Don't say that!" Cale rebuked, socking him in the arm. "Of course Bulma isn't a spy, right?"

"Right!" the blue-haired Earthling insisted, responding correctly this time. The five saiyan teammates stared at her, demanding an answer.

"Pardon me," a hooded and cloaked figure interrupted. "While this is a fascinating issue, your reactions to the truth are marvelous by the way, we have more important matters to discuss."

Bulma knew the matter was far from settled, but the saiyans reluctantly listened to the cultist.

"I am Wysheid," he announced to the room. "Some of you have met me before, others have met fellow members of my order, and still others have no clue why we are here. We are the Cult of Bardock."

Radditz swore. "You're named after my father?" he puzzled. The question seemed to amuse the cultist.

"There are several people named Bardock in this wide universe, but you do happen to be right. We are named after your father."

"Why?" was the best question the saiyan could muster.

"We foresaw a horrible tragedy shortly before we foresaw our own planet being destroyed. Our fellow kanassans look after those gifted with prophecy. They sent the twelve of us with the strongest abilities away before the attack. My brother, while weak in divination, was strong in wisdom. He granted your father the gift, sacrificing himself. Learning of this, the twelve of us sought out Bardock. He, like us, had strong sight. More than that, however, he had cunning. When he first saw the tragedy that we had, he came up with a plan, which I will get to shortly. Our cult is here to enact that plan, so we named ourselves after the one who came up with it."

Radditz seemed a little shaken at his lack of knowledge about his own father. Wyshied, on the other hand, seemed amused. He continued on with his speech, addressing the entire gathering.

"For years, we kanassans could glimpse the future. We allowed it to guide our culture. Now, however, there is a threat much greater than our own races. Frieza intends to control the entire galaxy, which is a horrible thought by itself. We have foreseen that through his arrogance and pride, Frieza will bring about the destruction of the universe."

"How?" a namekkian asked.

"That is the thing about visions," Wyshied continued. "They don't always show you what you most desire to know. What we do know is that his plan revolves around the Dragon Balls." A collective shiver seemed to pass through the gathering.

"Grand Elder," the cultist proposed. "Could you perhaps enlighten us about the Dragon Balls?"

"Well I did create them," Guru agreed. "The Dragon Balls are seven magical orbs that when brought together, grant the user three wishes."

"Then why are they called the Dragon Balls?" Vegeta demanded.

"They summon a dragon named Shenron. He grants you the wishes," Bulma explained.

"The dragon is Porunga," Nail insisted.

"Ah," the Grand Elder deduced. "You are thinking of Kami's Dragon Balls."

"There are multiple sets?" Wyshied asked, panicking.

"The set on Earth was destroyed because someone destroyed the whole planet," Bulma spat, glaring at the prince. Guru interjected as well.

"Only two sets ever existed, and one is now gone."

"Then let us discuss the plan," Wysheid proposed.

"Now," he started, unrolling a map of the galaxy. "I mentioned that twelve kanassans, including myself, were saved from our race's destruction. Eight of us are still alive. The other seven are enacting the plan. The Grand Elder gave each of them one Dragon Ball. They informed one and only one of their brothers of their destination, and then hid there. The balls are now scattered, making it impossible for Frieza to find them."

"Where do we come in?" Vegeta cut in.

"You are going to find the impossible to find balls," Wyshied explained.

"Fantastic," Radditz groaned.

"No one knows the location of all seven, so even if Frieza were to capture and torture one of us, he would learn little," the cultist explained, clearly proud of the plan. "Gentlemen, ladies, if you would excuse us. Prince Vegeta, with me please."

Wyshied lead the saiyan outside. "The first one is here: Planet Soledad. Tell as few people as possible. You are looking for Scio, who I believe you have already met."

"He ambushed me on Comorant," Vegeta growled. "It is a vivid memory."

"Any further questions?" the cultist asked.

"Just one. Why are we gathering the Dragon Balls?"

"We can wish Frieza away. No fight. No chance of loss. The stakes are too high," he explained. Wysheid seemed to have read the prince's mind. Vegeta had been considering killing the reptilian by hand and keeping the wishes to himself. 'The Immortal Prince' had a nice ring to it.

* * *

"Brother!" Tarble called. "Where are you going?"

"To gather the Dragon Balls, apparently," he sighed.

"Let me grab Gure. We're ready to go," Tarble nodded.

"You are not coming."

"Of course I am," Tarble laughed.

"I'm serious, shrimp," Vegeta insisted.

"But… why?" he wanted to know.

"Someone has to keep our bloodline safe. I may very well die, and father is on a planet that Frieza might decide to blow up at any time."

"So that's it, then? I'm just a breeder to you?" Tarble fumed. "My only purpose in life is to protect my genes and pass them on?"

"Damn it, Tarble," Vegeta groaned. "You know that's not true."

"Could have fooled me."

"Your combat skills are abysmal."

"So train me."

"There's no room on the ship."

"I'll stay in the hold."

"You might die."

"You might too."

"Damn it, Tarble!" Vegeta swore again. "Is it so hard for you to understand that I want to keep you safe?"

"Yes!"

"You have a wife to protect!" the elder prince insisted. That gave Tarble pause. He knew Gure would follow him where ever he went, but could he bring her into harm's way? He thought leaving her on Moirae would keep her safe, but it had only endangered her. Tarble knew he couldn't live with himself if something happened to her while he was gone.

"Okay, brother," he conceded. "I'll stay and keep Gure safe." Tarble had always been a soft, emotional child. He burst into tears at the thought of his big brother flying off on a dangerous mission. The little saiyan threw his arms around Vegeta. He might never get the chance again.

* * *

Frieza massaged his temples, frustrated at his lackey, his saiyan minions, and at the galaxy in general. Sometimes he wondered if it wouldn't be wasier to simply destroy all the planets he controlled. "Tell me Zarbon, if I make a deal with someone, am I expected to keep my end of the bargain?" the reptilian asked, annoyed.

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Zarbon answered promptly.

"Very good. And if I break my word, then the person I made the deal with will…" he prompted.

"Break his word as well, Lord Frieza," the green alien answered.

"Very good. And if I make a deal that a certain king will obey me if a certain son of his stays alive under my protection, and that son dies, then the king will…"

"No longer obey you, Lord Frieza," Zarbon answered, cringing.

"Very good. And Vegeta is dead, you say?"

"Yes, Lord Frieza."

"I suggest you start lying."

* * *

Vegeta hauled the hunk of electronics out of the ship. Frieza would believe they perished on Moirae if no one saw them leave the planet. The would be lost among the blackened bodies and buildings, free to search for the Dragon Balls and thwart their former master. Bannan sniffed, depressed as the prince hauled the chunk of metal and electronics off the ship and onto the blue namekkian grass. Frieza's technology or not, their comm link with Frieza was a part of his precious ship. Vegeta had different thoughts. His face curled into an evil grin as he sent a ki blast at it, leaving a blackened patch of grass where the comm link once sat.

Bannan calmed down once he sat in his familiar pilot chair, aiming the ship towards the mysterious coordinates Vegeta had programmed. All he knew was they were scheduled to arrive in several days. Wherever the cultist had taken the Dragon Ball, it was a long way away.

With the ship underway, attention on board focused on a certain blue-haired woman. She was very unhappy to be in the spotlight. Five curious and potentially angry saiyans surrounded her, coaxing her into the common room, where they glowered at her.

"So tell us, woman," Vegeta growled. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Bulma. That hasn't changed!" she insisted.

"Then where are you from?" Cale demanded.

"Earth!"

"Then how did you get to Namek, and why didn't anyone there know you?" Radditz wanted to know. Bulma sighed. She couldn't give an evasive answer for this one.

"I visited Namek in another timeline," she admitted.

"No one lies to the Prince of all Saiyans," Vegeta growled, placing his hand around her throat threateningly. Bulma tried to smack his wrist away, but she stood little chance against the toned saiyan physique.

"I'm not lying!" she gasped. "I'm from another timeline!" Vegeta increased the pressure on her windpipe.

"It's true!" she begged. The pressure didn't let up.

"Please believe me!" she choked, tears beginning to fall. "I swear it!"

Vegeta released her, watching her collapse sideways onto the couch. "I will not suffer liars. Cale! Get her out of my sight," he spat, furious.

* * *

Nail shaded his eyes at the hot namekkian sun. Everything was so still, so quiet. He almost missed all the aliens that had been wandering around his home like chickens with their heads cut off. Almost. He did wish that something interesting would happen on this godforsaken planet, though.

His wish was granted. A starship cast a shadow over the rolling blue hills. It landed right next to him. A tall alien with green skin and a long green braid to match leaped gracefully from the open airlock. He was followed by a much less graceful alien, pink, rotund, and spiked.

"Well, well, Zarbon," the pink one chuckled menacingly. "Looks like it's time to have us some fun." Nail was sent flying as the chubby pink fist connected with his jawbone. He blacked out.

* * *

Bulma sat on her bed like a good little slave. She could get out of here if she wanted. Bannan had long since given her access to the bio-lock. She knew, however, that escaping would make her no friends at the moment. She had just revealed that she had lied to all of them. Worse, she had just confirmed the existence of alternate timelines. That revelation had a tendency to change the way one thought about the world.

She clutched her knees to her chest and stared at the wall, wishing, for the first time in a while, that she could just go home. She missed Yamcha, and she really wanted one of his hugs right now. She missed his bad jokes and sunny disposition. She missed his touch and his caresses. Bulma vowed to herself that she would patch things up with him when… if… she returned.

Radditz opened Bulma's bedroom door, holding a bowl of… something that was supposed to be edible. Bulma suppressed a smile. The saiyans were incapable of cooking passable food without her. She could tell from the look on his face that he was equally as angry as the rest of his crew mates.

"Hear me out, Radditz," she begged. "Please!" He set the bowl on the floor and leaned against the door jamb.

"Talk," he ordered, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I really am from another timeline. A kid visited me from a third timeline, warning my timeline of an upcoming attack. I was going to his timeline to offer help, because it was kind of a post-apocalyptic place, when my machine malfunctioned and I ended up here. That's why I simply appeared on Frieza's ship. I didn't exist here until that point. That's why the namekkians don't remember me. I met their alternate selves!"

"Alternate selves?" the saiyan asked. The blue-haired time traveller sighed with relief. He believed her, at least a little bit.

"Yes. Vegeta killed my alternate self," she confirmed.

"Was I in the other timeline?" he asked. Bulma nodded hesitantly. She had seen Radditz twice back home. Once, he had arrived at Kame House, kidnapped poor Gohan, and tried to talk Goku into killing everyone so they could sell the planet to Frieza. The second time he had been dead, killed by Piccolo with a shot through the chest. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to tell the person who was just beginning to trust her again. On the other hand, her lying had caused her trouble so far and she didn't want to perpetuate that with more lies.

"Was Cale?" Radditz asked softly.

"I never met her," Bulma replied. "When I met you, you were alone."

"She almost died, a few years back. I saved her. I was wondering if maybe I hadn't elsewhere," he explained soberly. Bulma nodded. She empathized. Radditz stepped out of the room, door sliding closed behind him. _One convinced, four to go, _she thought.

* * *

Nail stretched his arms as far as he could, pulling himself along the ground. He had to warn Grand Elder Guru. It was his sworn duty. The namekkian thanked his lucky stars that he had been unconscious. The two aliens had left him for dead. This was his second chance to protect his liege. He tasted blood and sweat from the wound to his cheek.

He could see the Grand Elder's home in the distance. It was cracked open like a hollow egg. Crawling was no longer fast enough. Despite his wounds, Nail tested his ability to fly. His ki was dangerously low, but he didn't have to fly far. He sped toward the building. Guru's throne was there alright, every broken piece. A small green corpse lay next to the shattered throne. Dende. Nail checked him for signs of life, hoping the child was still alive. He wasn't. The Grand Elder himself was nowhere to be found.

It couldn't be coincidence that the day a group of aliens arrived, the Grand Elder was kidnapped and Dende was murdered. There was a traitor, but who?

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time, when the saiyans explore Soledad, one of Frieza's sniffers discovers Vegeta, and Nail exacts his revenge.**


	15. Float On

**Hello, dear readers. ****I've missed you all! **I planned on finishing this chapter almost a month ago, so I would like to apologize for taking so long. It is done. Finally. 

**I am back and updating ASaT again (as of 11/8/12). I've added about 1k words since I uploaded this chapter, so if it's been a while since you've read it, I recommend a re-read. **

**If you were wondering why I've been so quiet lately, most if it involves an inhuman amount of work. I have, however, been diligently working with Team Dragon Star on The Missing Prince and Tranquil Violence, both Gh/Vi fics, if you're interested. I'm also revising and continuingTDS's only multi-chapter B/V fic, Blue Moon. So I've been a busy girl. **

**Here it is, your reward for your continued patience: the complete Chapter 15.**

**-Kanotari**

* * *

Float On

The saiyan ship floated through space, inexorably marching toward Planet Soledad. It was the first time in a long time that the saiyans had time off. Frieza, apparently, didn't believe in it. Some, like Bannan and Radditz, found ways to occupy themselves. Others, namely Cale and Vegeta, were like caged tigers.

Cale's fist went right through the training room control panel. The electronic hum faded away and the downward pull of gravity vanished. The saiyan swore loudly as she floated to the other end of the room, propelled by the force of her violence. Radditz gently rebounded from a wall and gracefully soared toward his sparring partner.

"Geeze Cale," he laughed. "Remind me not to make you mad." She merely glared at him.

"Can you honestly tell me that you would reveal you were from another universe to a bunch of people who could kill you with one hand?" Radditz asked gently. "I certainly wouldn't. I'm rather impressed Bulma didn't simply run away."

"Lies get people killed."

"So does revealing that you can build a time machine."

It was clear that Cale was done with this conversation, but she was stranded, hovering, in the middle of a wide open room. She would just have to wait until her momentum carried her near a wall. Radditz grasped his lover's hands between his own, taking advantage of her inability to escape.

"We'll survive this," he promised. "And after, I'll take you somewhere exciting. Malchior V ?"

"Fire-breathing trees are pretty exciting," she had to admit.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

"I just want to go home," she admitted. "I miss the heat." It was true. Cale longed for the intense deserts of Vegeta-sei, where she had grown up. It was where she had scored her first kill, where she had learned to fly, where she had learned to survive. The desert was a masterful teacher.

"Home and kids it is, then."

"I didn't say anything about kids." Cale didn't understand why people found the squishy pink things so adorable.

"A guy can try." He smirked devilishly as his toes connected with the wall. "Time to tell Bannan you hurt his ship."

* * *

The cybernetic saiyan swore, an uncharacteristic reaction for him. The controls floated farther and farther from him as he floated away. What happened to the gravity? Using a cross between a doggie paddle and breaststroke, he attempted to swim down to the training room where the controls were located. Unfortunately, air was not water. Bannan stayed in roughly the same place, only succeeding in flipping himself upside down.

Radditz and Cale had better luck. By holding hands and using the walls to their advantage, they somehow managed to make it up to the bridge, passing Nappa, who was trying unsuccessfully to contain the contents of the refrigerator within the kitchen.

The female saiyan must have looked guilty, for Bannan glared at her as she haphazardly sailed into the room.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"I was training," she defended preemptively.

"You hurt my ship."

"It was an accident!"

The lights began to flicker. Apparently Cale's fist had done more damage than she initially thought.

"Go get Bulma. Have her meet me in the training room," Bannan sighed. He didn't exactly want to be around the blue-haired woman at the moment. He was very hurt that the little human had lied to him, though he understood why she did. The situation, however, demanded that he ignore the past. If the slave girl could built an inter-dimensional time machine, a gravity system should be a piece of cake.

* * *

Bulma had been a good little slave all day. She stayed in her room hugging her knees, wishing for yesterday morning, when her friends and masters didn't know her secret. It was only when she realized her blanket was hovering over her bed and her bed was hovering over the floor that she began to rethink her good behavior. Something was up, and maybe she could help.

The door struggled to open. It kept floating off its track in zero gravity. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the door vanished, revealing a saiyan with a smoking hand. Radditz, who looked rather pleased with himself, helped Bulma through what little remained of her vaporized door.

"Gravity controls are shot, and who knows what else," he explained hastily. "Controls are in the training room. Bannan could use some help."

Bulma tried to nod as she flailed to maintain her orientation. Securing himself against the wall, the saiyan gave her a gentle kick toward the stairs. Her blue locks flew in all directions, giving her a Medusa-esque hair style as she soared majestically right into a wall.

After many uncoordinated collisions and some kicking and swearing, Bulma made it to the training room. Bannan had bent the door open and was digging around behind the wall panels. Bulma didn't have to work in tech-support to spot the problem; a fist-sized indentation in an expensive-looking panel.

"Cale," Bannan explained tersely.

"Gravity systems and maybe other things?" she asked, confirming Radditz's opinion.

"Yep. Pass me that welding torch."

Bulma picked the device out from the contents of the saiyan's tool chest, which were currently hovering a foot or so above her, and sent it his way. It took some more uncoordinated flailing to get her close enough to examine the damage. She had no clue what had pissed Cale off, but apparently the saiyan female had been frustrated enough to do some destroy the better part of the electrical system. It sparked and hissed as Bulma and Bannan got to work.

* * *

Nappa burst through the door to the royal bedchambers to find a very disgruntled prince hovering upside down, arms crossed and scowling.

"Would you care to explain?" Vegeta asked his servant in an icy voice.

"Some sort of gravity issue, Prince," Nappa replied smartly.

"I can see that," the short saiyan spat. "How and why?"

The bald man shrugged. "Are you okay?"

"Other than the fact that I can't get any work done," he growled angrily, reaching for a piece of paper that floated past. "Yes, Nappa, I'm fine. Find Bannan and handle it."

Unfortunately for both Saiyans, Bannan chose just that moment to 'handle it.' Vegeta landed in a rather undignified heap on the floor. Nappa had been hovering much closer to the ground and simply dropped an inch right onto his feet. The prince shot his cohort a glare, as if it was somehow his fault. "See to it that someone is held responsible," he barked.

* * *

Nappa was never the brightest of the Saiyan race. He decided that it was somehow Bulma's fault that the gravity systems had somehow been damaged, when the truth of the matter was that she had been instrumental in their repair. The crew, still annoyed at their blue-haired slave, went right along with it, though Radditz and Bannan seemed a little ashamed.

As their ship orbited Soledad, the planet with the first cultist and the first Dragon Ball, Bulma's punishment was handed down. "Stay on the ship," Vegeta ordered. The human felt that her position among the crew was already precarious enough and meekly obeyed the command.

Bannan too stayed behind. He insisted, the ship needed some more repairs and Bulma had a hunch she'd be helping. Vegeta, Cale, Radditz, and Nappa took the four remaining pods down to the surface of the planet. As she looked at the golden planet from orbit, Bulma wistfully wished she was going too. The young genius sighed.

Her cyborg friend clapped her on the shoulder. "Be glad you aren't going, little one," he said. Bulma smiled at the return of her old nickname. He, at least, must have forgiven her for not revealing her true identity.

"It's a desert planet," he explained. "The air is dry and constantly moving. The landscape never stays the same. Worse still, an average day is probably hotter than the hottest place back on your home planet." The girl twitched a bit at the mention of her devastated home. Bannan appeared not to notice, continuing. "The sandstorms would kill any human. I sure hope the cultist we're supposed to find is more hearty than you squishy creatures. Trust me, little one, you're better off here."

Bulma secretly agreed, though a part of her was curious. Vegeta, her Vegeta from her timeline, had told her a little about Vegeta-sei, divulging information in small tidbits. She knew that it, too, was mostly hot, dry desert. Perhaps this was a bit like home for the Saiyans then. She noticed Bannan glancing out the window, much as she had, with a dismal, distant expression.

"Do you miss it?" she asked, her voice a reverent whisper. "Home?"

Bannan nodded. "The sands are hell on my arm," he explained, flicking the delicate contraption so that a metallic clang echoed in the pod bay. "If I go home, I lose my arm. I lose my ability to fight. I lose what makes me a Saiyan."

Bulma nodded. It was a rough decision for the cyborg to make; nothing she could say would make it any easier.

"I settle for my memories." The Saiyan smiled gently. "I'm sure you understand better than anyone else."

He was absolutely right. She had hopes that she would one day build another time machine, that somehow, someway, she would end up back home, where she belonged. Chances were excellent that she would never see Earth again, never see her family again, never see Vegeta again. She didn't even get to tell him that she was sorry for being such an ass. He would would likely never know.

The edges of her vision started swimming, and she glanced at Bannan. The burly Saiyan patted her gently on the head in a comforting fashion. He delicately held his robotic arm away from her and pulled her into a rough hug. "It will be alright, little one. This is our home now."

Bulma understood for the first time why the cybernetic Saiyan felt such an attachment to his ship. It was home.

"Do you have any paper?" she asked, suddenly.

He held up a finger: one moment. He ripped the corner off of an old blueprint. Bulma thanked him and retreated to her room. The paper was a bit wrinkled, but it would do. She folded it neatly into a rectangle with clean edges. The genius took her time writing, making sure that each word looked the best it could. When she was done, she hung the sign above her bed with a spare nail she'd scavenged.

'Home Sweet Home'

* * *

The harsh desert sands whipped against Vegeta's exposed face. He raised his arm to shield himself. His eyes burned both from the intense light and the dry, racing winds. Despite the environmental conditions, he was unusually chipper. Frieza thought he was dead, he was on a quest to kill the accursed lizard, and here he was in a place that felt just like home.

The prince hadn't realized just how much he missed his planet. The expansive deserts of his home were where he had learned to fight, to hunt, to track. They were where he had scored his first kill: a massive sand worm. The memory made the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a genuine smile, for once. It had been so long since the acrid climate had sucked the moisture from his very skin, since every moment was a struggle for life.

He bent, running his fingers through the sand. The grains passing over his fingers told him of the land. It was fine sand; a sand storm had passed through here recently, grinding the sand into a fine powder. The rock looked to be mainly aragonite, the pulverized remains of coral and shellfish. At one time, this planet must have been a water world like Riparian. Vegeta wondered why it had changed.

A slight indentation before him caught his eye. His fellow Saiyans were all behind him; the ground in front of them should be undisturbed. The dent in the flowing grains looked to be just slightly smaller than his shoe size. He presumed the grains had flowed into the hole left by a humanoid foot. Yet, he nor his companions had walked here. The prince's eyes found a trail of similar marks leading over a dune. They were not alone.

He licked his chapped lips. Vegeta didn't know if whatever left these marks was human, Saiyan, or something entirely different. Whatever it was, he hoped it had his Dragon Ball.

* * *

**Thanks for your patience with me. I've already started on the next chapter. Look for an update in the next few days! **

**Stay tuned for next time when the saiyans explore Soledad, find the cultist, and we learn what happened to Grand Elder Guru.**


	16. Home Sweet Home

**Hey again folks. I have rekindled my love for this story amidst my nest of candy canes and gingerbread houses. I know it's only November, but Christmas is my favorite time of year. If you came to this chapter because you're following me or this story, go read last chapter, which is now complete. I've added over 1,000 words to it, some of them important to the plot. **

**As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. Reviews really do make my day. **

**-Kano**

* * *

Chapter 16: Home Sweet Home

The Grand Elder opened his eyes in an unfamiliar place. He had spent so many years in the same chair, day after day, unable to move on his own. It was a bit traumatic for the Eldest Namek to not know where he was.

"Naaaail!" he called, summoning his servant. There was no rush of footsteps, no, "Yes, Lord Guru." Where was he?

"I'm afraid your little minion is dead," a cruel voice taunted.

"Who are you? Where am I?" the elderly Namekkian demanded.

"I am Lord Frieza, ruler of most of the known galaxy," he cackled. "And as for your location, well I'm afraid you're in one of my holding cells, fat one."

"What do you want with me?"

"I don't think you understand how this works. _I_ ask the questions," Frieza tutted. "Now, what do you know of the Dragon Balls?"

Guru remembered Vegeta, his kid brother, the blue-haired slave girl, and all their other companions. He had told the group everything he knew about the magical orbs, everything that might help they defeat the tyrant before him now. Frieza didn't need to know that. "What is a Dragon Ball?"

The lizard answered his question with another: "What did I tell you about asking questions?" He continued, eyes narrowed in a menacing stare. "I know your kind makes them. Tell me about the Dragon Balls!"

"I have no clue," the obese alien protested. Frieza was displeased. The fat one was contradicting his intel, and his intel was always right.

"You're useless," the ice-jinn spat.

"Zarbon," he continued. "Get this thing out of my sight."

* * *

The trail of footprints led through the sand. Vegeta and his saiyan companions had followed them since the sun was high, each taking turns at tracking. Night was now beginning to fall, bathing the desert in blood-red light.

Nappa, leading the party along the trail, held up a hand as he spotted something in the distance. A rock shelf jutted from the sand, a place of relief from the harsh sun. The bald saiyan hadn't stopped to observe the geological beauty; something lay at the base. Someone was there, relaxing in the shade.

Vegeta motioned for the others to stay put and snuck up to the camp himself. He used a trickle of ki to fly just centimeters above the sand. He used the growing shadows to his advantage, but he still suspected that a dark figure against the blazing sand would be spotted. The figures in the distance didn't budge. How fortunate.

The saiyan prince continued forward slowly. It wasn't until he got close that he realized why the mysterious person hadn't noticed his approach.

He was dead.

Upon closer examination, he learned that the body had lain there for a while. Rigor mortis had set in. The arid climate had mummified the flesh, giving it the texture of rough leather. The victim's garb, which matched his recollections of the Cult's garments, had shredded in the harsh wind. Only tatters remained. He didn't see any lesions or wounds, or any cause of death for that matter. It was unnerving. Worse still, he saw no sign of the Dragon Ball.

Vegeta tromped back to his group, his good mood thoroughly killed. "We have work to do," he grunted.

"Who was it?" Cale asked.

"Cultist," came the terse reply.

"What did he say?" Radditz chimed in.

"Nothing. He was dead," Vegeta spat, his words dripping with venom. "No telling where the hell the Dragon Balls are."

"What about this guy's ball?" Nappa asked.

"Gone," Vegeta sighed. "We have a planet to search. Split up. Meet back at the ship in a week."

"How did the cultist die?" Cale demanded, acting as the voice of reason. "He could see the future, and something still got him. What chance do we have?"

"Where is your saiyan pride, woman?" the prince hissed through clenched teeth. "If you see it, kill it."

* * *

Bulma swore as a voice interrupted the delicate labor. "Hello?" it said. "Anyone there?"

The hiss of static crackled from the comm station. Bulma abandoned her repairs and answered the call.

"Hello? Was someone trying to contact the ship?" she asked cautiously.

There was more static, then, "That you, slave girl? We have a situation down here…" It sounded like Radditz's voice.

"Copy that. What's the situation?"

"The cultist is dead and the Dragon Ball is missing."

"I see…" Bulma couldn't help the cultist, but she knew a thing or two about finding the Dragon Balls. It came from years of practice.

"I'll see what I can do. Bulma out."

She smiled at the pile of frayed wires that she had just removed from the gravity system. Those would do nicely. Using all of her might, she threw the comm link right on the floor. It rebounded, intact. Bannan entered the room right as she was preparing to repeat the process.

"Hey. Hey!" he shouted, grabbing her throwing arm. "We need that."

"We're going to be on this planet forever unless you let me break it."

The saiyan, naturally, was skeptical.

"Vegeta and the others found the cultist, but he was dead. The Dragon Ball was nowhere to be found," she explained. "I can help. I know how to build a radar that can detect them."

"That's brilliant, little one!" Bannan cheered. "Let me give you a hand."

She passed him the comm link. He proceeded to place it between his elbow and torso, and squeezed. The electronic device popped loudly as the case split into two, baring the inner hardware.

"Perfect," Bulma said with a smile when Bannan handed her the remains of the machine. "Pass me that screwdriver."

It was time to make a Dragon Radar.

* * *

_One week later, 06:00 hours..._

Nappa stepped out of his pod and made his way to the common room. 'Meet back on the ship in one week.' Those were his orders, and he followed them to the letter. He was greeted by a hearty wave from Bannan. The cybernetic saiyan had massive circles under his eyes, and so did blue-haired slave girl, who sat next to him. The girl brandished what looked to be like a comm link with a built-in screen. She looked quite pleased with herself.

"Hey Nappa," she said, stifling a yawn. "You're the first one back. Where is everyone else?"

_10:00 hours…_

"Seven days of searching every freaking sand dune and what do I get? Nothing but _caiman_ bites!" Cale spat. "I hate those damned lizards."

"Sounds like you had as much luck as I did," Nappa groaned.

Bulma patted him on the back in a comforting manner. "Only one of you can find the Dragon Ball. Maybe Vegeta or Radditz has it."

_19:00 hours…_

Radditz shoved his head under the kitchen faucet, gulping water like he'd never tasted the stuff before.

"I got caught in a sandstorm on the way back," he explained after several minutes of hydration. "Sucked the water right out of my eyeballs. It was so cool."

Cale gave him a bear hug, rivaling the strength of most bears. "Glad you're safe," she murmured. "Any signs of the Dragon Ball?" she then asked so everyone could hear.

He shook his head.

_The next morning…_

Bulma managed to scrape breakfast together with their remaining supplies. She found four saiyans seated at the table before she even took the eggs out of the pan. She secreted a plate away in the kitchen so she would at least have something to eat before her compatriots devoured everything. It was a good thing she did too. The eggs were gone before she brought out the bacon, which in turn was gone by the time she brought out the toast.

"Did anyone hear from Vegeta?" she asked when she at last sat down.

Various mumbles muffled by food floated her way. All were negative.

"He's a whole day late. It's not like him," she mused. Her eyebrows knitted together; she was clearly worried.

_16:00 hours…_

"Vegeta was supposed to be back yesterday morning!" Nappa fumed. "He shouldn't give orders if he's not going to follow them."

"I'm sure he has a good reason," Bannan said calmly.

"He's probably tracking down the Dragon Ball as we speak," Cale chimed in, confident of her assertion.

"Maybe something happened to him," Bulma mused.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Radditz laughed. "There aren't many things that could take down our prince. I'm sure he's fine."

"There aren't _many_ things…" Bulma repeated.

* * *

_The previous day..._

Vegeta stopped at the only water he could find: a little well with no more than a cupful of the life-sustaining substance. The sun was setting on the sixth day day since he parted from his team. He had covered countless miles of sand in his search for the Dragon Ball, but had found nothing, and that infuriated him. It was a struggle to stay airborne in the harsh winds that sculpted the sand dunes, and he was exhausted. It was time for a break. He had no food, no blanket, and his canteen was long dry. Setting up camp was as simple as collapsing on the sand.

Despite his fatigue, the hair on the back of his neck tingled unpleasantly. The prince rolled his eyes; the sensation had plagued him all day. It felt like he was being watched.

Vegeta decided to ignore his instincts. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of another creature since he'd parted from the other saiyans. Instead, he lay on his back and made himself relatively comfortable on the warm sand.

A flash of blue on the horizon caught his eye. It was another person… out here in the middle of these wastes… Something seemed fishy. Fishier still was the person's hair color. It was blue, and a very peculiar shade at that. It was the exact shade of the slave girl's hair. But why was she out here? How was she surviving when she couldn't go without food and water as he and his race could?

The figure collapsed. Perhaps survival was challenging for her after all…

Vegeta abandoned his makeshift camp and flew to her side. The girl was unconscious: heat exhaustion, he presumed. She didn't stir when he placed one hand under her shoulders and another behind her knees, then hoisted her over his shoulder. She slept as he carried her over to the water and lay her down gently.

The saiyan prince was bothered both by his slave's condition and by the fact that despite his best efforts, the blue-haired human had grown on him.

With a heavy sigh, he scooped up the mouth-full of water into one of his hands and poured it down the woman's throat. He hated himself for being relieved when she choked and spluttered.

"Vegeta?" she finally managed to ask. "Why are you here?"

"I should ask you the same thing, woman," he growled. "What part of 'stay on the ship' did you not comprehend?"

"You hadn't checked in. I was worried that something might have happened to you."

He snorted skeptically. "I am the Prince of All Saiyans. Nothing on this sand-covered rock poses a threat to me."

"Well something got to the cultist…"

"Woman, I'm fine," he groaned. "Now, get back to the ship before you die out here."

"Do I have to?" she said, suddenly sounding like a child asked to give up their favorite toy.

He shot her a glare that clearly meant yes.

"I'd much rather stay here with you."

Stay here with him? Vegeta was a little taken aback. He always thought the woman was just a little scared of him, or perhaps that was wishful thinking.

"I could make us something to eat," she suggested.

"With what?"

"Oh…" The girl looked crestfallen. "I could keep you warm."

Was… was she propositioning him? From her seductive stare, he thought so. As he rolled his eyes sarcastically, his gaze passed over her wind-torn clothing and the supple bits of flesh now exposed to the desert breeze. Why was he resisting this again?

Vegeta jammed his eyes closed, waiting for his self-control to return. This had to be a mirage, he decided. The prince cautiously cracked an eye open to see the woman looking at him with big round doe eyes. Dammit!

Vegeta dug his nails into his hands and closed his eyes again. Mirage or not, she was a human and not a saiyan. He would never lower himself to consort with an inferior race. What would his father say?

At last he sighed and reopened his eyes. "Go back to the ship, woman."

She looked rather abashed for a moment, then whispered, "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?!" he growled.

"I kind of crashed the pod…" Bulma rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks on fire.

"We were already down to four pods, woman. If you'd have -" The saiyan stopped mid-sentence when he realized what he'd just said. They were down to four pods, one for him, Cale, Radditz, and Nappa. There was no pod for the woman. She was lying!

"You flew a pod down here, right?" he confirmed.

She nodded. The insolent wench! She lied not once, but twice! He would strangle her for this.

"And you crashed?"

The girl nodded again. Vegeta felt his hands twitch toward her neck, but restrained himself. He needed information first.

"I thought you were a better pilot than that," he scoffed, trying his very best to sound as though nothing was amiss. "Did you take the broken pod, you moron?"

She gasped. "I must have!"

Vegeta stopped restraining himself. His hands flew to her throat as his legs tangled in hers, knocking her to the ground and pinning her uncomfortably beneath him.

"We don't have a broken pod. Who are you?" he demanded, baring his canines.

* * *

**I am in the process of finishing this chapter, so I'll leave you with this abrupt ending.**

**Stay tuned for next time, when we find out discover how the cultist died, find out who Vegeta has captured, and learn of the Dragon Ball's location.**


	17. Skin

**Hi everyone!**

**Thanks as always for reading this chapter. It's actually a complete chapter, for once. *gasp* I also completed last chapter, so if you haven't read it today (11/14/12), read the second half again. Otherwise you are going to be very confused.**

**A very special thank you to those of you who review. Reviews make my day and make my writing better for you. It's a win-win.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Kano**

* * *

Chapter 17: Skin

"It's me you idiot!" Bulma hollered as she pounded the kneecaps of her saiyan assailant.

Vegeta bared his canines. "It's very dangerous to lie to me," he growled.

"I'm Bulma! Bulma Briefs! I'm from Earth!" the woman protested.

"If you're Bulma, then how did I get this scar?" he smirked. Only two people had witnessed that situation, and one of them was dead.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you can tell me, I'll let you go."

"In a fight," was the answer. It was an excellent guess, but a guess nonetheless.

"Details, woman. What weapon cut me?"

"A… a knife." Another guess.

He smirked. He had her now. "Drop the act, wench."

The form beneath his shimmered and changed. It sprouted thick grey fur, which spread across its body like wild fire. The nose elongated into a cruel snout. The eyes, once bright blue, became yellow slits. Vegeta realized he was perched on top of a snarling she-coyote.

The creature's fangs sunk into his wrist, lapping up the blood that spilled forth.

"A skinwalker," Vegeta murmured, impressed. Skinwalkers were a extremely rare, nearly extinct. Those that remained were almost universally assassins, paid liberal amounts for their unique abilities. "What did I do to merit being hunted by one of your kind?"

"Client privilege," she growled through her grip on the saiyan's arm.

Vegeta punched the creature right in the mouth, gratified when he heard the sickening crunch of bone. He smiled cruelly. Violence against this lying witch was oh so satisfying. "Tell me, or this desert will be your grave."

The saiyan loved the way the terrified creature trembled at his words. He increased the pressure on her throat until she gasped for breath.

"Alright," she wheezed. Vegeta let up a little. "Alright," she gasped again. "Frieza wants you dead. Don't know why."

"There's a shock," the prince groaned. He was hoping for some information that was a little less… obvious. "How did you know we were here?"

"Didn't. Was here for the old guy."

"The robed guy?"

"Yeah," she sputtered.

"Then why are you after me?"

"Huge bounty."

It made sense, though he wondered why Frieza hadn't cancelled the bounty when he learned of the saiyans' supposed death on Ananke.

"The woman. Where is she?"

"This one?" the coyote growled, shifting back into Bulma's form. "You wouldn't kill your precious little slave girl, now would you?"

He punched the shifter right on Bulma's cheek. She let out a yelp. "It is irrelevant. You're not her."

"But I could be her for you..." the seductress proposed in Bulma's voice. Vegeta tried his best to look uninterested, but let go of her throat. The skinwalker took her opportunity to try to persuade the sullen prince.

"I spent all day following you, reading your thoughts," she continued. "She flits through your head quite often. You want her, don't you?"

"Don't be preposterous. The human means nothing to me."

"I've seen your thoughts. You can't lie to me. My proposition is tempting you."

"As if I would insult my race in such a way," the saiyan scoffed.

"Your race doesn't have to know. I'll keep it a secret," she whispered seductively. The shifter reached up and caressed the prince's cheek with the back of her hand. The touch unhinged him, sending shivers running down his spine.

Vegeta growled at the vixen between his legs, seizing her arms with his uninjured one and pinning them above her head, leaning in to the nape of her neck. The shifter smirked; he was falling for it.

"And just when do I wake up to find the knife in my back?" he whispered venemously in her ear. "You clearly have no idea what happens between me and the woman. I'll assume you two haven't met. So tell me instead, where is my Dragon Ball?"

"Let me up and I'll lead you to it."

He groaned, but accepted that it was probably the only way he would see his prize. The shapeshifter grinned from ear to ear as she stood, still in Bulma's form. She quickly tested the limits of the human body, stretching before the prince. The seductress clearly still hoped her last plan might still work. Vegeta pointedly stared in the opposite direction.

"I think I prefer you as a coyote," he spat.

"I think you're wrong," she replied cheekily. "This body is… pleasing. I think I'll wear it for a while longer."

"Just take me to my damn Dragon Ball," he muttered angrily.

"It's near where I picked up your trail this morning. I left it on my ship when I started tracking you."

_Fantastic_, Vegeta thought. _I won't make it to the rendezvous._

He spoke into his wrist. "I have a lead. I'll be late for the meeting."

It was then that he realized he was an idiot. His wrist communicator was gone. He had been talking to glove, and no one else.

"Looking for this?" the vixen chuckled, dangling his communicator from her lithe fingers. She dropped it in the sand when she saw the look of comprehension on her companion's face. With an expression of pure disdain, she squashed it like a fat cockroach.

"You'll pay for that, wench," he growled, charging the skinwalker. Vegeta moved with saiyan speed, securing his gloved hand around her neck once more. He tangled his free hand in her borrowed cerulean locks.

"Walk," he barked.

Saiyans, though capable of walking for days without food, water, or rest, preferred to take breaks on occasion. Vegeta looked rather ragged after several hours. By the time rose, he looked far worse. If the journey was rough for Vegeta, it was hell for the shifter. Bulma was no athlete, and she was only a human. In the blue-haired woman's skin, the shapeshifter languished. As the sun rose, she dropped to her knees in the sand.

"I can't go on!" she protested, out of breath. "I just can't."

Vegeta sat down, tugging on her hair to indicate that she should as well. They could both do with a break. The shapeshifter bypassed the sitting position, collapsing face down in the sand.

"Aren't you taking me to the Dragon Ball so that I'll spare your life? If you die here, the last few hours have been a waste."

Vegeta's attempt at comforting words seemed to be effective, for the shifter forced herself to sit.

"My name is Ashe," she offered suddenly.

"I'd give you the courtesy, but you ripped my name from my mind," Vegeta hissed angrily.

Her body, Bulma's rather, shimmered and rippled ash she changed into yet another form. Instead of clutching blue hair, the saiyan found his fingers entwined in a grey coyote pelt. The person wearing the pelt, the shifter's current form, had light purple skin. Her eyes were a deeper shade of her skin tone. In the place of a nose and ears, she had slits, and her neck was adorned with gills. She looked practically amphibious.

"This is my true form," she explained. It explained why the planet was taking such a toll on her.

"Why are you showing me this?" Vegeta had to know.

"I cannot go on to the otherworld if I do not die in my own skin."

The saiyan punched her in the arm, gently for once.

"What the hell was that for?" the weakened creature demanded.

"You're not dying. You're going to make it to your ship and get off this planet."

The shifter laughed weakly. "I won't make it that far."

Vegeta got to his feet, pulling her along with them. "Yeah you will. Come on."

The saiyan prince put his arm around the creature's waist and tossed one of her arms over his shoulder. Supporting the shifter's weight, he took to the air. His toes skimmed the sand as he carried them in the direction they had been going. The sun was setting again the next time they stopped.

The skinwalker was asleep within moments of touching the ground. Vegeta was not so fortunate. His body ached from a week of flying with no rations. It longed for sleep, but his mind didn't. He was one-hundred percent positive that Ashe would lie to save her own skin. Did she really have the Dragon Ball at her ship? Was he walking into a trap? He couldn't know for sure. He did, however, think that he had earned some of the skinwalker's loyalty today by carrying her across the desert. The vixen was an excellent actress, but something about her convinced the prince of her sincerity as she insisted that she was going to die. She served Frieza, yes, but perhaps she had some redeeming qualities after all. His thoughts still swirled angrily as he finally sank into sleep.

* * *

Bulma and Bannan looked rather proud of themselves as they showed the modified communicator to their comrades.

"The display shows you the relative location of the Dragon Balls," the scientist explained, handing the device to Radditz.

"It shows them anywhere?" he marveled.

"Anywhere within a solar system," she clarified. "It's better than the one I built on Earth. That only detected them within a very small area."

Cale nodded in approval. "This could come in handy."

"Well it's getting a field test right now. There is a good chance that the Dragon Ball is still on Soledad. I can think of one reason why Vegeta isn't back yet: he knows where it is. We find the Dragon Ball, we find Vegeta."

* * *

"We're here," Ashe announced only a few hours after dawn. Vegeta looked around for any sign of her ship, raising an eyebrow at her when he saw nothing.

"It's the rock," she explained. "Cloaking device. Take me to the base."

He picked the skinwalker up again and flew them both down as she requested. She ran her fingers over the surface of the rock, looking for something. Exactly what that something was eluded Vegeta, but whatever it was, she found it. She opened a little pouch that hung at her waist and dipped her fingers in the dark powder. She smeared it across the rock face in a cryptic pattern.

Vegeta was about to protest when he noticed something interesting. The rock was shimmering, much like Ashe did when she transformed. A ripple ran through the stony surface, leaving a starship in its wake.

"Your Dragon Ball is on board," she said as she opened a hatch in its belly. Vegeta hesitantly stepped aboard. The hatch closed behind him. It didn't sit right with the saiyan.

There it was, orange and round with seven stars. It was undoubtedly the Dragon Ball, and this was undoubtedly a trap.

A purple menacing figure smirked at Vegeta. "Prince Vegeta," it greeted. "My lord will be so pleased to know you survived."

Vegeta's voice was filled with venom as he replied, "Hello, Ginyu."

* * *

Bannan let Bulma sit in the co-pilot's seat. It was a big honor, Radditz informed her. Bannan refused to let anyone but the prince sit there. It was clear the juvenile saiyan was jealous. Regardless, she perched in the chair and turned on the Dragon Radar. Sure enough, her technology was reliable. It was picking up a signal on the far side of the planet.

"To the left, Bannan," she informed him, wise enough not to touch the set of controls before her. The little signal flashed more frequently on the screen as they drew closer to its location. The pilot took the ship down low as the other saiyans peered out the windows, searching the sand for any sign of life.

Bulma shook the radar in her hand. The darn thing must be malfunctioning; the Dragon Ball was on the move.

"Pull up Bannan," she told him. "It's on the move.

The cybernetic saiyan laughed heartily. "Vegeta must be on his way to meet us."

"It's heading away from us, and off-planet."

Just then, Nappa hollered from the common room. "Did you guys see that?"

Bulma heard Radditz and Cale agreeing with him, and exchanged a glance with Bannan. He gave an understanding nod. She headed downstairs, just in time to see a starship flying off into the distance. The signal pulsed less frequently as the ship continued to pull away.

"The Dragon Ball…" she gasped. "It was on that ship!"

* * *

**For those of you interested, Ashe was inspired by the yee naaldlooshii of Navajo legend. I'm not entirely true to the myth, but it provided the inspiration for my shapeshifter. The name Ashe comes from the notion that witches in Navajo lore used ash from charred corpses to make painting, which cursed their enemies.**

**Stay tuned for next time, when Bulma and the saiyans pursue the Dragon Ball, Ginyu delivers his prisoner, and some old friends return.**


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